


P.S. I Love Handcuffs

by Game_Changer



Category: Gintama
Genre: Epistolary, Fluff, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Letters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-25 16:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6201880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Game_Changer/pseuds/Game_Changer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The abandoned husk of an old Danny's restaurant in one of Kabukicho’s back alleyways transforms into an objectively terrible bar at sunset. [Complete]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dear Hijikata-kun,

I have been thinking a lot about Makoto lately. If you are asking yourself ‘Which Makoto?’ then you are a failure to your organization, because I am talking about your Shinsengumi mascot, you Shinsengumi hack. That ignoble centaur archer may not have made an appearance for hundreds of episodes, but Makoto is important. It’s the truth.

Maybe that’s why I have been thinking about him too much. There will be nights when I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling and wonder about how that magnificent bastard felt in those few precious seconds right after he shot the arrow into that forest and right before the arrow hit that little girl. It takes me around five more minutes than usual to fall asleep. It’s bullshit is what it is. Or centaur shit, I guess.

I can’t help it though. There’s no turning back for him now that a child’s blood is literally pooling on his back. How does the blood feel? Does it just keep dripping? How does this impact his social life?

I’m asking you now, because there’s a reason that centaur became the Shinsengumi mascot, out of all the centaur archer mascot candidates there were out there, so I feel like you would know best how he is doing. I ask you in particular out of all the brazen tax thieves that make up your excuse for a police organization, because one time Mako-chan told me that you were his favorite. It made me wonder if you kept in touch.

Yeah, sometimes it made me wonder.

This is Gintoki, by the way. Hi.

Gintoki

(In the right hand corner is a shakily drawn circle with the words ‘Musashi wuz here’ written inside.)

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

Don’t use Yamazaki to send me shit letters.

Hijikata

 

* * *

 

Dear Hijikata-kun,

Good ol’ Jimmy said he was going back to the Shitstaingumi HQ after finishing his duty of handing me your junk mail, so, since it was on his way, I hope you don’t mind me using him to send you this letter that I am using to tell you that I have never sent you a letter. Excluding this one.

If this was your tsuntsun way of getting me to send you a letter, mission accomplished. Don’t expect another, asshole.

Humblest regards,

SG

ps Jimmy just told me that I did actually hand him a letter addressed to you last night. My hangover is preventing me from remembering the specifics, but I stand by it.

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

I am writing this letter to you, but it isn’t FOR you this time, get it? This one is for me, so you can’t complain.

What I’m doing here is retracing my steps. I’m back at that bar I was at last week. I have once again ordered their shittiest sake, which is, coincidentally, their only sake, and I am drinking a bunch of it. You wouldn’t like this stuff, because even though it’s your kind of hard, it’s my kind of sweet. I don’t think we’d ever end up sharing a drink here, which is fine by me. Finally a place to myself where you won’t pop up like you own the universe of nearby recreational activities. THIS IS MY TOWN AND IT HAS GLUCOSE.

Anyway, if I write you this letter, I’m thinking I’ll remember what I wrote in that last letter. Not that I care or anything, but since I was around that same back alley bar drinking that same pissass sweet sake, I thought I’d try and drudge up whatever it was. Just to entertain myself. This place has pens and paper at every table like this is some sort of thing people do. Drunk letter. This is my first drunk letter – or that other one was, so I’m figuring it all out as I go.

What do people write in drunk letters? What do they write in drunk letters to demon police officers in particular? Hmmmmmmm.

How many times a day do you wash your hands? I mean with soap. I usually clock in with about two washes – maybe three if I’m feeling fancy. Sometimes it’s just nice to have the option, you know? You seem like you’d know.

Gintoki

(In the right hand corner is a shakily drawn circle with the words ‘Musashi 2020’ written inside.)

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

Drunk lettering is not a thing. You are writing in crayon on the back of paper Danny's menus. Stop giving these to Yamazaki.

Hijikata

 

* * *

 

Dear Hijikata-kun,

I am sending Jimmy back to you slightly damaged, because you made him deliver your letter to me before noon on a Sunday. My sword dove into his solar plexus on pure reflex. Kagura and I have gone through hundreds of Justaways this way. Though I think Jimmy was already damaged when you forced him to deliver your mail, unrelated to any and all Shinsengumi business, at the asscrack of dawn on a Sunday morning. I’m not saying the words ‘abuse of power,’ but my pen is definitely writing them down. You could very well become Jimmy’s next Justaway if you’re not careful.

With this helpful advice from my end, we can consider ourselves even.

You’re welcome,

SG

ps Jimmy paid me to write down that he says he would never make the Vice Chief his Justaway.

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

This is actually pretty great. I know I’m writing you letters when I drink here, but I never remember what I put down, so it’s a fun, new adventure each time. Clean slate, no consequences. Maybe I’m just repeating myself. Do you have a stack of letters that all say the same thing? Are you framing them? You should be framing them in your office. I’ll come and visit the Shinsengumi HQ someday to check and make sure that you’re paying my letters their due respect.

I brought a friend along with me to the joint this time, so he could join in on the drunk lettering. He’s already three Dannys menus in to a letter to his ex-wife at this point.

Heh, he just asked me who I was writing to, and I told him I was also writing to my ex-wife. He’s super curious now. Man, what a gossip. Gin-san’s sordid, imaginary past is none of his business.

Oh, well, if he’s buying the next couple rounds…

I just said I divorced you because you liked your work more than me. You pushed papers, but wouldn’t put out. Hey-YO. That pretend sob story got me another couple rounds from my drinking neighbors. It’s been ages since I’ve had the chance to mooch this much booze off of people! Thanks for the freebees!

Gintoki

(In the right hand corner is a shakily drawn circle with the words ‘Musashi Gettin Down’ written inside.)

(Another Danny's Menu is taped to the back of the above letter, reading as follows:)

My idiot friend is takin your side in al this. Does he have any idea how it fels to be ignored for weeks, months by the one that promsed, PROMISED they were going to have your bac? You can’t suspport each other when one of you ISNT THERE AND DOESN’T KNOW YU’RE PRETND MARRRIED.

Haegawa says I shoud try an calml wrte my feelings to you, so you know my side. Mabe its not to lat, he says. I think that I thik it was too late the day you wer born, becase you cam out of the womb scramin for arrest warrrants and black blakc black coffee instead of lollipops like kid ar suppoed to. You you kept clenchin yur ass cheeks until your ass muscle got so stron that it comepltely closed off yor assshole. You need to try and rlax your ass musscle and let some shit com throuh. I wold have help if you let me, you now, becase I do know. I coul’nt ask for lolllipups ether. You cant keep all tha shit in. Afte a while…

I almos barf on this, but I threw up on Hasaegaas leter instead. He crying in th flor right no, so I dont think he cars. Ha, somone cant handle ther liquoerfhnga

Hi Hij Im bac. Thank for wating. Thanks for listening. I lik thatt your her. I wan lie on ur lap and tak a nap. I want t put u in cage, starv u, then feed you strip of roten letttuce as yu beg for fod frm me. Les go drin ths weeeek. I

 

* * *

  

Hello Danna,

I was hiding in Hijikata’s closet the other night waiting for him to fall asleep when Yamazaki came in to the room and delivered a letter from you. I thought it was strange that someone would actually write a physical letter in this age of cellphones and hitmen, but then I remembered how dirt poor you are, so I was able to reconcile myself to the issue. Admittedly, I was initially a bit hurt that you hadn’t told me that you and Hijikata were ‘letter writing pals,’ but I was quickly able to forgive you once I witnessed firsthand how you used the message to provide Hijikata with a heaping pile of mental torture. It was expertly done, Danna.

The first page of your letter just seemed to make him his everyday kind of angry, but the second page was a bullseye. The further along he read, the more uncomfortable he seemed to get. He started white knuckling the letter, and mumbling things under his breath that were hard for me to hear, but, from what I could gather, mainly seemed to revolve around refuting everything you were saying, and questioning the use of assholes and lettuce.

This was just the first time he read it over though. He crumpled up the pages, threw them across the room, picked them back up, and reread them a grand total of six times. The more he reread the contents, the more his indignation seemed to give way to a horrified curiosity and intense spiritual turmoil. It was beautiful. He would side eye the page like the words you wrote would change if he looked at them from a different angle, and then shamefully crumple the whole thing up again in a flash flood of self-disgust. Once again, Danna, I must say well done. He was about to uncrumple your masterpiece for a seventh read, when Kondo-san came into his room to tell him to stop burning the midnight oil and go to bed. As Kondo-san was entering the room, Hijikata ate your letter in a panic, so he couldn’t read it again after he was left alone. The contents kept him awake most of the night though, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t in a gastrointestinal sort of way. I watched him toss, turn, and swallow loudly until dawn. It was quite tiring work for me, so I slept most of the following day.

Once I got a good day’s sleep though, I knew I needed to get in touch with you. I am sending you this letter, as apparently letter writing is your form of communication now. I was hoping we could meet soon, so you might tell me what you wrote in that letter, because it has been months since I have been able to fuck Hijikata up that badly, and I need to know how you did it. How about we meet over dango? Parfaits? All you need do is name your price, Danna.

Also, if this is going to be an ongoing letter-torture saga, I hope that you will let me join in on the fun. I can bring a great deal of material to the table; please do not underestimate me.

You are welcome to use Yamazaki to send me back a letter at any time of night or day. I eagerly await your reply.

Respectfully yours,

Okita Sogo

 

* * *

 

Dear Hijikata-kun,

I may have had a few more drinks than I usually do last Monday night, and I think I might have sent you another drunk letter.

Keep in mind that whenever I write drunk letters I am always ~~joking~~ _deadly serious_. 110% ~~laughter fuel~~. Actually, pretty much everything I write down is ~~a punchline to something somebody said somewhere~~ _as good as a confession of intent_! Don’t forget ~~to laugh~~!!!!!

I would tell you this in person, but you seem to have gotten very skilled at avoiding me all of a sudden. Which is fine. You can do that, but I just wanted to make sure ~~it wasn’t because you thought I was saying anything that meant anything in my drunk letters~~ _you knew it is only a matter of time_. Yup, so yeah. Peace out _for now_.

SG

 

* * *

 

Hello again, Danna.

I haven’t gotten a response from you yet, so I am checking in again to see when you want to meet. Also, by the way, I noticed that you recently tried to send another letter to Hijikata. I was sad that you decided to go ahead with your letter writing campaign without including me, so I hope you don’t mind that I put in a few of my own changes before handing the letter over to its intended recipient. I think our efforts combined will reap great rewards this time.

Kindest regards,

Okita Sogo

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

Meet me on the Nihon Bridge at sunset.

Hijikata


	2. Chapter 2

From: SS Mole

To: Leader

I have received information that the Shinsengumi Vice Chief Hijikata Toshiro has issued a letter of challenge to the Shiroyasha. They will be meeting at the Nihon Bridge at sunset.

Awaiting your orders

 

* * *

 

Mole-kun,

You have done very well to bring this to my attention. Monitor the meeting and write up a report. If Gintoki appears to be in any serious danger, use your flare gun. I will be on standby.

Also, my name is not Leader; it’s Katsura.

 

* * *

 

From: SS Mole

To: Katsura

Report of Meeting Between the Shiroyasha and Shinsengumi Vice Chief

18:43  
The Vice Chief arrives. He appears extremely restless and ill at ease. He paces the length of the bridge, back and forth, smoking a cigarette. Perhaps fearing a standoff with the Shiroyasha?

18:48  
The Vice Chief stops pacing in the middle of the bridge, and takes a few deep breaths. He mutters a few words to himself: ‘How the hell am I supposed to… What even is this?’ He trails off, kicks the bridge roughly, and smokes another cigarette. He now waits quietly.

19:07  
The Shiroyasha arrives fifteen minutes past sunset. The Vice Chief yells at him for this, and the Shiroyasha yells back that he is not at the Vice Chief’s beck and call, and that the Vice Chief should be grateful that the Shiroyasha even showed up at all. They quibble about the time of the Shiroyasha’s arrival for four minutes. However, neither brings a hand close to their weapons.

19:11  
The Shiroyasha and the Vice Chief both quiet down. The Shiroyasha watches the people passing by on the bridge, wearing a bored, lazy expression, but his right foot is tapping rather rapidly. The Vice Chief stares at the water below, smoking a third cigarette.

19:12  
Still looking at the water, the Vice Chief asks the Shiroyasha if he is ‘some kind of pervert now’.  
The Shiroyasha’s face looks like he just sucked on a terrible lemon as he retorts that those were ‘big words coming from a man who probably gets off to the sound of mayo squirting out of a tube’.  
Another fight begins, and a few punches are exchanged, but they still do not draw their weapons.

19:15  
After they both settle down again, the Vice Chief sighs, folds his arms, and side-eyes the Shiroyasha as he says, ‘Just tell me what you’re after. Writing letters like that.’  
The Shiroyasha lets out an openly exaggerated sigh of his own, gesturing helplessly to the heavens as he asks, ‘Letters like what? I keeping telling you, I was drunk. I don’t remember! And you should just forget it, whatever it was. Problem solved!’  
  
19:16  
After a few moments of silence, the Vice Chief says, ‘You wrote that you wanted to help me shit. Metaphorically.’  
The Shiroyasha scoffs, picks his nose, and suggests, ‘Maybe drunk me thinks you’re constipated. Metaphorically. He’s being helpful and all you can do in return is be a giant, accusatory dick.’  
Without skipping a beat, the Vice Chief adds, ‘You then wrote that you wanted to put me in a cage, starve me, and then feed me rotten lettuce when I begged you for food.’  
The Shiroyasha stands still, finger frozen in his nose and face blank.  
  
19:17  
In a slightly high-pitched voice, the Shiroyasha stutters, ‘W-why would I ever say something like that?’  
The Vice Chief retorts, ‘How would I know? I called you out here to ask you that question!’  
All of a sudden, the Shiroyasha rips his finger out of his nose and points it to the north bank of the river, screaming, ‘IS THAT TAKASUGI?!’  
The Vice Chief immediately turns in the direction of the finger, hand hovering above his sword for the first time since the meeting began, shouting, ‘WHERE?’  
  
19:18  
While the Vice Chief dashes toward the north bank, the Shiroyasha runs his hands roughly through his hair and his lips contort in a silent, agonized scream. He kneels down on all fours on the bridge, peering into cracks and gaps in the wood, and begins mumbling about how he has to find a time machine.  
  
19:24  
The Vice Chief returns slightly out of breath and glaring at the Shiroyasha. He accuses, ‘You never saw Takasugi.’  
The Shiroyasha lets out an empty laugh and stands up woodenly, saying, ‘My bad. It must have been a giant horse turd. Sometimes I mistake the two.’  
The Vice Chief scuffs the side of the bridge with his shoe, and something that looks like it could have been part of a giant horse turd slides off. He snaps, ‘I should arrest you for perverting the course of justice.’  
Rolling his eyes, the Shiroyasha speaks with an irritated sneer, ‘Pervert, pervert, pervert! Is that the only word you can say?’  
The Vice Chief shouts, ‘If the shoe fits!’  
The two eye each other, tensions high.  
  
19:25  
In unison, the Vice Chief and the Shiroyasha yell, ‘What do you want from me?’  
Neither responds.  
  
19:26  
The Vice Chief says, ‘Keep your letters.’ He then turns to leave.  
The Shiroyasha watches him go. 

19:27  
The Shiroyasha walks toward the lamp pole I am hiding behind and asks me what I am doing. He reaches out to take the pa

 _See, Zura. This is why I don’t invite you to things._  
  
19:31  
I regain hold of the paper after the Shiroyasha reads the report and writes the above message on it.  
The Shiroyasha disappears into the evening crowds.

  
End of Report

 

* * *

 

Gintoki,

I applaud your ability to distinguish my spies amongst the masses. Your observational skills have not dampened a bit since the war!

Yes, it is I, Katsura Kotaro, sending you a letter, as doing so appears to be in vogue! I find it deeply intriguing that you, of all people, appear to have descended into the realm of epistolary exchanges, and this fascination is doubled by the fact that your letters have bared the address of none other than the Shinsengumi’s Vice Commander, Hijikata Toshiro. Despite the circumstances, I write to you today not as a Joi Rebel, but as your friend.  

It warmed my heart to read my subordinate’s report of your meeting with Hijikata-dono last night. As Hijikata-dono spoke of the words you had written for him, about you wanting to help him shit and feed him in a cage, I saw the fundamentals of your desire to care for this man – by assisting him with important tasks, and providing him with sustenance and protection. This nurturing urge is, at its core, a declaration of affection so ardent that it is both difficult and delightful to imagine it coming from you. Hijikata-dono appears to be struggling with the concept as well.

However, I send this letter to encourage you not to lose heart! Your initial reaction may be to run from this possibility, all it means, and what it might portend, but I urge you to take responsibility for the events you have set in motion. Now is not the time for a retreat. As you have told a man of the deep affections that you hold for him, so must you back up your writings with action. Show him that if he were to consider returning your sentiments, the best of Gintoki would be there to greet him.

Always your friend,

Katsura

Postscript: Whether or not events go awry, do consider joining the Joi rebel force. If the relationship between you and Hijikata-dono were to sour, I promise you there would be no more cathartic form of revenge against a Shinsengumi dog than to be amongst the Joi. On the other hand, if you and Hijikata-dono were to decide to forge a bond, being a member of the Joi would add a Romeo and Juliet spice to your relationship. Just imagine the passion of forbidden love!  
I speak for all of us when I say that the whole of the Joi would be ecstatic to fight alongside the great Shiroyasha once again! For your convenience, I have attached a Joi recruitment pamphlet to the back of this letter that describes our wonderful organization and gives you easy, step by step instructions of how to join. Use the promo code ‘Elizabeth’ to get 15% off your Joi application fee when registering online!

 

* * *

 

Vice Commander:

Yorozuya’s Danna just received a letter from Katsura. Contents unknown. Danna read the letter then fed it to his giant dog. No suspicious activity has followed as of yet.

-Yamazaki Sagaru

 

* * *

 

Yamazaki:

Just keep an eye out for now.

Hijikata

 

* * *

 

Hatsu,

Remember when we used to exchange letters when we were young? You would leave notes for me in the lunches you packed for me, and I would leave notes for you in the pockets of my dirty clothes for you to discover before you washed them. Those were the days.

We stopped writing to each other once I got to be a bigwig in the Immigration Bureau, and I think I know why. To be that man at work, I had to stop being the man you loved. I had to be a man that wouldn’t write you letters asking if you’d smiled enough that day. Not that being the man I am now is any better – someone who can write letters, but can’t support you.

I’m not writing now to ask if you’re smiling, because I don’t feel like I have that right as the Madao I am, but instead I just wanted to say that I miss you, love you, and want to find a way to be good for you again someday. I know I’ve said it before, but I don’t think I’ve ever written it down. Writing it down feels like a promise. At least it does here.

I’m sorry to say I lost the letter I wrote to you the first time I came to this bar, but I am back here again, and writing this now is as easy as the last time. In this place, the only thing I can do is write to you. There’s no set rule about it or anything, but there’s something about the sake. People have been talking about it all around town. It tastes like Amanto piss, but it’ll make you write to the person on your mind, they say.

Testing the theory on myself, I’ve got to say that I think it’s true. The more I drink, the more I find myself thinking of you, and scribbling words down on this paper menu. I see it happening to other people in the bar too. They drink, moan, and rush to write. My friend did last time, but he refused to come along with me this time, saying that he was tired of letters. Being compelled to write this way can be scary, I guess – particularly when you’re used to pushing these sorts of feelings deep down all the time.

But I’m glad I want to write to you. Having you in my heart is the next best thing to having you by my side. I want to believe that I’ll find my way back to you in the end, if you’ll still have me by the time I get there.

Forever yours,

Taizo


	3. Chapter 3

Yamazaki:

There have been rumors going around town that a shop in Kabukicho is selling some sake that makes a person want to write a sexy letter to the person that makes them hot. I want you to buy five bottles and bring them back to me directly. It is important that we stay ahead of matters like these in the Shinsengumi and investigate them promptly.

Kondo

 

* * *

 

Gin-san:

A wild gorilla recently handed me a few bottles of sake. I would bring them over to the club to sell to my customers if I thought any of them would go for it, but they look way too cheap, so I thought I would invite my friends over to party through them instead. Come around tomorrow evening if you’ve the time. If not, your share goes to my dojo students.

Tae

 

* * *

 

OTAE-SAN:

YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL. I LOVE YOU. YOU’RE STRONG. I LOVE YOU. OTAE-SAN. OTAE-SAN. I LOVE YOU. I KNOW YOU LOVE ME TOO. YOU HAVE TO LOVE ME TOO. THERE IS NO ONE ELSE BUT US. WE ARE LOVE. I LOVE YOU. OTAE-SAN. I LOVE YOU. YOU ARE SO PRETTY. I LOVE YOU. DRINKING THIS MAKES ME LOVE YOU MORE. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I’M HORNY. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I’M HORNY. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I’M HORNY. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I’M HORNY. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOV

 

* * *

 

Dear Hijikata-kun,

Will you do everyone a favor and come and get your commander? He is performing over and above the call of his stalking duty this evening. The brain damage he’s piling up courtesy of Otae-san’s piledriver may spell bad things for future Shinsengumi strategy meetings. More importantly though, he is casting shame over the elegant sport of drunk lettering.

First off, you don’t drunk letter in front of the person you’re drunk lettering. That’s like if you play hide and seek, but the seeker watches the hider hide. It’s stupid. You don’t do that. Secondly, you don’t speak the words aloud, or yell them in your gorilla’s case, as you write them. Again, what is the point of the letter if you do that?! Drunk lettering is an art. Anyone who drunk letters at my level knows this.

I know you didn’t want any more drunk letters from me, because you’re a giant, constipated asshole, and I promised myself I wouldn’t do another, because Gin-san is generous and considerate even when it comes to giant, constipated assholes who deserve about five goddamn enemas, but this letter isn’t about me, so it doesn’t count. This is about your captain. He’s walking the plank of his own ship and you should come get him before he feeds himself to his own sharks.

Gin

ps I wrot this letter a few hourrs back, but I still havn’t been able to send it, which is probbly a good thing, because you probably dont know where to go to pick up your capitan once you get this lettter. We are all at the Shimura Dojo. We are havng a party. You should come for a while and drink wit me. That plain dude I always giv my drunk letters to is already here drinking some too. I tink he is drunk letterring too. Who is going to give this letter to you now? There is lot of sake. But I don’t think you’d like this sake alll too much. While it’s your kind of hard, it’s my kind of sweet. You should ignore your stuppid lack of swet tooth just this once. Maybe more tims. You’ll start likin it.

Did I evr tell you bout the first time I had a parfat? I was at a Dannys like that one I alwas drunk letter you fromm, but this one actually served hamburgers n shit, and had humun waiters, and was actually a real Danny’s.

I was at the age wher my feet could finally touch the floor when I sat in one of thos booths. That was nice. They had lots of napkins at te table too, which were good to wipe off all the blood and dirt and gguts. My teach said I coud have anything on the menu that I wanted. I jus pointed to someplace on the menu becase I didn’t know how it worked an I thought putting a finger somewhere might solve it. That finger got me a chocolate stawberrry parfait.

You know that feeling when you put something in your mouth, and its so so much… all of a sudden it hits you that you’re actually alive?

Sometime when Im looking at you, I get the sam sort of feling, but not quite. Sometimes I wonder what wold happen if I came closer, but I won’t actully do it. You couldnt handle it. You can’t risk slippng up nd letting me in. That’s why you’ve been avoidng me since the bridge.

That’s your mistake thogh. I’ve been under yor sskin for ages alredy. Too late to worry about it now. Are you realy that afrad of what I might do? Or maybe its what you’d do.

 

* * *

 

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* * *

 

Dear Yamazaki-sama,

Thank you for the kind letter. I appreciated your gesture of writing to me in my native tongue. However, I noticed that you appear to be carrying a misconception regarding my construction. To resolve this issue, I have attached a copy of my design schematic to this note for your perusal. As you can see, my chest cavity is presently used to brew coffee and store napkins. I do not have what humans would consider to be a heart.

Also, when you delivered your letter to me last evening, you mistakenly included a letter from Gintoki-sama addressed to Hijikata Toshiro-sama. As you appeared to lack the sufficient cognizance to deliver the letter to its intended recipient, I did so for you while you slept off your inebriation in the street outside of Otose’s Snackhouse.

I hope this letter will be sufficient to resolve any misunderstandings upon your awakening.

Regards,

Tama

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

I’ll remind you in case you’ve conveniently decided to forget that in your latest drunk letter you accused me of being afraid.

I’m not afraid, you asshole. You’re the one being cowardly. You write these things to me and then you claim it wasn’t you, or at least not a you that you can remember. Once, fine. Twice, okay. But now it’s tipping over into a pattern of yours instead of a one off. What is this? Your alter ego? Your responsibility waiver?

Whatever it is, I don’t like it. I’m avoiding you, because I have nothing to say to someone who hides behind cheap menus and pathetic short term memory problems.

This isn’t you drunk. This is you something else and you need to own up to it. You strike me as a lot of things, but repressed isn’t one of them.

Here’s my drunk letter to you. I’m writing this over some good sake, but only just enough of it to make the pen flow. I’ll remember this one in the morning, and I’ll still own up to this one in the morning. You can count on it.

Hijikata

P.S. In spite of it all, I will say thank you for Kondo-san. I was able to drag him back to the barracks in time for his meeting that morning because of your letter. Not that the ‘you’ that will read this played any part in that, so I don’t know why I even bother.

 

* * *

 

Dear Hijikata-kun,

So what then? You want me to grab a pen and some paper, sit at my desk fully clothed and stone cold sober, and, while bathed in the piercing, unforgiving light of the midday sun, write to you about how I occasionally fantasize about chaining you underneath this desk and allowing you to suck me off in exchange for some gently expired senbei crackers to tide you through the day down there? Don’t get me wrong, I can easily do that, but I don’t think either of us want me to. As a fully formed adult, I have learned to exercise the appropriate amount of modesty, common sense, and self-restraint (not to be confused with repression!) in certain social situations, which is why I have politely refrained from such behavior. I understand how etiquette like this might not be well known deep in the hovels of the Shinsengumi man musk dungeon, but you’ve got to meet me halfway here.

While I may not remember exactly what I wrote to you in any of those drunk letters, I could easily give you the cliff notes. The memory isn’t there to reference, but I know me. I know what I want.

Now, since apparently I am dealing with a man that has the delicacy of a grunge metal electric guitarist on a meth trip, I will spell it out for you. There are things I’ve sent to you when drunk on some stupid shit, and I’m pretending like both you and I don’t know what’s inside of those things, so it will be easier for you to get on with your life. I’ll avoid guzzling down that particularly shitty sake from now on, which I thought I already was until your gorilla sprung some on the Shimura Dojo unawares last night. Thus, what I wrote down in those drunk letters doesn’t need to matter at all, because you won’t hear about things like that from me again. No more letters; no more worries.

Stop throwing a tantrum and get over it. I’ll buy you a drink sometime when we find we’re both in the same evening establishment, so we can call it even. Untwist your panties.

Gin

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

What the hell is with you and wanting to trap me in places and feed me shitty food? I knew you were a sadistic bastard, but rotten lettuce? Stale senbei? It’s as if you’re going out of your way to be irritating with your backroom fetishes.

There’s no way I’m pretending I don’t know about this stuff. How could I when that ninja stalker of yours keeps begging me to take you up on your ‘offer’ and let her watch? You’ve opened the can of worms, and you can’t just close it to make things all better. This is how things are now.

Paying for a drink is the least you could do next time we meet.

Shithead.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

I’ll have you know that I have it on good authority that my ‘backroom fetishes’ stem from wholesome, nurturing urges. Gin-san is a man who just wants to take care of his people, you judgmental prick.

But let me get this straight. Your main issue here is the shitty food part? If, for example, I was feeding you a jar of mayonnaise underneath my desk instead of crackers, that would change the game for you?

I’m only asking because your priorities concern me. As a sensible, mature sadist, they concern me.

Gin

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

Of course mayo would change things! With mayo, that situation would just be like a regular police stakeout. I have to sit in cramped spaces far too often with only mayo and cigs for company. Now your fetish is just starting to sound like my everyday life. Stop wasting my time.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

Yes, but you’re missing one small detail. I’m guessing your stakeouts don’t often involve dicks.

Also, are you implying that I wasn’t wasting your time when my fetish was more outlandish to you?

Gin

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

Of course there are dicks on stakeouts. If you’re watching a rebel fighter going about his daily life without his knowing, waiting for him to make a wrong move, you are inevitably going to see his dick multiple times a day. You see it when he pisses in the alley outside the bar. You see it when he pathetically jerks it to a picture of his estranged wife behind the bushes in the park.

Like I said before, if you add the mayo, your fetish is my reality. I sit in a cramped space, eat mayo, and see dicks. That is just what all cops do. And no, before you even ask, I’m never allowing you on a stakeout with me.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

Who would ever want to go on a stakeout with you? Keep your mayo and rebel dicks to yourself.

However, like you’re insinuating, you would only have to make an extremely small, inconsequential leap from the normalcy of your everyday life to transform my imagined fetish into physical reality. How about I buy you a drink tonight and you think on it? I’ll be at the usual place. I say usual place, but I guess it’s not usual anymore since you picked up the hobby of ignoring my existence. This snail mail foreplay has been fun, but actually come and find me once you’ve found your balls.

Gin

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

Bring it on, bastard.

H


	4. Chapter 4

Hijikata-kun,

I get the feeling that all of this is new and foreign territory for you, so I was prepared to give you a little leeway when it all came down to it, but coming back to the hotel room to find you gone, the headboard ripped out of the wall and in pieces on the floor, and the hotel manager yapping at my heels for money to fix the tornado of wreckage you wreaked on that room was not my idea of a good time. I only left you alone for a second. What the hell happened?

You’re paying that bill, you know. Not only is it your fault to begin with, but I also wouldn’t have the money to pay for it if I sold everything I own (and that’s including myself into slave labor). You’ll find the bill attached to the back of this letter. Pay it this week or the manager promised to send some muscle after me. If the muscles come my way, I’m running over your way, so don’t think you can stay out of this, tax thief.

Gintoki

 

* * *

 

Gintoki:

‘Left for a second,’ my ass. YOU WERE GONE FOR THREE HOURS. I needed to be back at the fucking barracks by 7 AM for a morning debriefing, and I’m just glad my sword was in reach for me to do what had to be done. I couldn’t get that damn manacle off my right wrist before the meeting though, so now the whole squad thinks I had my ass nearly handed to me by some rebels last night.

And then it all came together. Sogo came up to me after the debriefing saying that it seems like I ‘enjoyed his present’. So what? He was in on it? Was this you and Sogo? Was this some shitty plan you concocted to fuck with me and defame my character amongst my men? You were writing those letters to me for weeks, and this is what you wanted out of it? 

You pay your own goddamn bill. Or use the money Sogo probably paid you to do all of this to pay it. I don’t care.

We’re done. If the Shinsengumi and Yorozuya ever cross paths, I’ll deal with you professionally. If the Shinsengumi and the Shiroyasha ever cross paths, I’ll deal with you. Other than that, we’re done. Don’t talk to me. Don’t look my way. Don’t come near me. Otherwise, I’ll kill you. Then I’ll disembowel you. Then I’ll kill you again.

If more of Sogo’s pocket change is worth your blood on my sword, just try and test me. There won’t be a second time. I’ll kill you. Then I’ll arrest your corpse. And then I’ll execute it.

Rot in hell, you pitiless fucker.

Hijikata Toshiro

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

Read the following sentence carefully: That’s not what happened, you dipshit.

Now, let the meaning of those words absorb their way through the thick block of shit you call a skull and enter your shit-for-brains. There was no big plot. You would know that if you just listened to me for a goddamn second instead of swinging your sword every fucking time I’m in eyesight you pissy bastard!

I left you comfortably attached to the headboard, as you were, to get a couple jars of mayo, like we’d agreed to, when I ran into an old buddy of mine. He’d won big on pachinko just ten minutes back and was feeling generous, so he gave me some of the dough to play out some more on the machines with him! I was sure I’d just been playing for what felt like an hour (tops!) before I left the pachinko parlor, got the stuff, and came back to find, well, you know.

I guess I maybe sort of lost track of time without meaning to, but I ended up winning 2,000 yen at the slots, so can you really blame me? That’s all it was. A little, innocent pachinko. You’re more gullible than anyone with your job description has any right to be if you’re willing to wholeheartedly believe the rumors of your child sadist subordinates that read your mail.

Trust me when I say I would never try and assassinate your character, because you already do too good of a job of that yourself.

Now pay this bill.

Gintoki

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

To announce that the bill is past due, two assholes just threw a brick through my window. Then they threw literal shit through the giant hole that the brick made in my humble abode. One of these pieces of shit landed on my lunch.

Since you claim to be a cop, I won’t mention how I may have hypothetically retaliated to this bomb of shit. All I will say is that if you had just paid the damn bill I wouldn’t have to throw loan sharks into swiftly moving rivers.

Now I’m feeling harassed, so how do I spell this out to you in a way you can understand? My letters to you were only ever a one man operation, and the plan – if you can call a drunk guy getting frisky with a pen a plan – was never to fuck WITH you. Even if I don’t remember writing any of those letters, I can still tell you that. If I use up every last bit I’ve got saved, I can pay 8,000 yen off the bill. HANDLE THE REST.

I _might_ even be willing to say please or whatever if you ask nicely.

Gintoki

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

In case you were wondering, the shit raining through my window did not end up being a one-time thing. It is now a daily thing. I could set my watch by the moment turd #1 comes flying in at 11:07 every day. What kind of gangsters have a schedule so precise that they time their daily shit flingings down to the minute? What kind of loan sharks deal in shit flingings instead of crotch punches?

I have so many questions that I’d prefer I didn’t even need to ask in the first place. You can help with that. By paying the bill. I attached another copy of the bill to this letter and squeezed a whole packet of mayo onto it.

See what new lows this whole situation has brought me to? I feel dirty. And that feeling has nothing to do with the literal, wheelbarrow-sized piles of shit that have been catapulted at my person over the past week.

Take this letter for what it is and pay the goddamn bill.

Gintoki

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

How are you doing? Not that you asked or anything, but us Yorozuya folk are all fine and dandy.

We’re honing our skills. Working hard. Kagura can now tell what type of animal a shit has come from by watching how the shit splatters on impact. Shinpachi’s glasses are becoming so used to the constant rain of shit that they can glint brightly even when draped in brown gunk. As for me, I am learning how to divine the future in piles of shit. Like tea leaves. The shit speaks to me - giving up synopses to upcoming episodes. The more rancid and smellier the shit, the less it hides the spoilers.

One thing I see very clearly through my divination is that you will very shortly be paying the bill.

Pay the bill. And the interest that’s built up on the debt so far. Please? I’ll pay you 500 yen!

Gintoki

 

* * *

 

Hello Danna,

It seems like you are in quite the bind. I hate to see a friend like you in trouble, so here is a check for 100,000 yen from the _Fucking Hijikata Over Fund_. Please do cash the check at your earliest convenience and use it to pay off whatever debts are currently troubling you. No strings attached.

Don’t worry, you fully earned this money.

Warmly,

Okita Sogo

 

* * *

 

Soichiro-kun,

I don’t know who you think you’re dealing with, but I was scamming Nigerian Princes before you were born. I know how this works. If I just so happen to cash that check of yours, it seems like your Vice Commander might just magically stumble across some evidence that I got some money from this _Fucking Hijikata Over Fund_ , falling right in line with this little fairytale you’ve been telling him.

How about you just come clean instead?

Pleasantly,

SG

 

* * *

 

Hello again, Danna.

I still don’t see the problem. I will, of course, write up the money on an expense report that goes right to bastard-Hijikata, but _Fucking Hijikata Over Fund_ is just the name of my personal bank account. It doesn’t actually mean anything. It’s like when you make your password something like hijikatascalpsbabies. It’s just a random assortment of letters that you use to access your account. There’s no story behind it. Nothing bad will come of this, I assure you.

I hope you cash that check soon. I never like to see you in trouble.

Kind regards,

Okita Sogo, because that is my name. Sogo is my name. Sogo. Danna, it’s Sogo.

 

* * *

 

Soichiro-kun,

Today the pile of shit flung into my window landed on Kagura’s lunch. That is the reason half of Kabukicho has become a pile of rubble. Now, this can’t reflect well on the Shinsengumi. Isn’t it included in one of your organization’s stupid rules that the city doesn’t explode?

Stop being a brat.

SG

 

* * *

 

Danna,

We only got reports of two overturned food trucks and a car crash. Hardly half the city. Please refrain from playing up your case.

If you really want this to stop, you have an easy solution. You take my money and pay off your debts, which makes you happy. Hijikata remains angry and alone, which makes me happy. We both get what we want unless you don’t take my money. Is it really so important to you to stay on the idiot’s good side? Nothing good comes from being there. It’s all mayonnaise.

Regards,

Okita Sogo. That’s S-O-G-O

 

* * *

 

Soichiro-kun,

Trust me, nobody cares about Hijikata-kun’s mayonnaise side. I just don’t make a habit of taking dirty money. It’s a slippery slope. First, you accept an easy bribe, and then next time you blink you find yourself laundering drug money for the kingpin. I’m a good citizen and I won’t stand for this sort of dirty coppery.

You want to keep torturing your VC? Fine. Just leave me out of it, or next time I’m telling Kagura that you’re the reason there is shit in her rice.

SG

 

* * *

 

Danna,

That bastard doesn’t get to have something like this. Not after what he did to my sister.

He doesn’t get to replace her. Ever. Go find someone else.

Okita Sogo

 

* * *

 

Soichiro-kun,

You must have had a pretty insignificant sister if she can be replaced just like that. Did she cast so small of a shadow that anybody else sitting next to him erases that fact that he ever sat next to her? Sounds like a nobody. I didn’t know her for long enough to judge, but if her little brother considers her memory so worthless in the face of new memories, there probably wasn’t much to know.

Good thing for you is that it looks like you don’t need to worry about her being replaced. If that’s the kind of woman she was, I’m sure that guy never cared about her in the first place.

SG

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

Sogo handed me a bunch of old letters from you the other day. The ones about all the shit flinging. Said he’d been lazy about giving me my mail. He also said that I’d better kill you if you start making liking spicy foods one of your primary character traits. I don’t know what’s been going on between you two, and I’m not going to ask.

I’ll pay your bill just so you’ll stop sending me letters about shit. It’s disgusting. And don’t ever waste mayonnaise by squirting it on a bill ever again. If you ever find you have an extra mayo packet to spare, keep it gently refrigerated until you can hand it over to me. I’ll take care of it.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

I’m disgusting? You’re the one who is asking me to ‘gently refrigerate’ a mayo packet. I threw up in my mouth a little after reading that, which is a tough feat for me these days, because I’m too used to constantly breathing in a mountain of shit particles with every breath. Nothing phases my stomach at this point, or so I thought until just now.

I do actually have a few other mayo packets in my refrigerator, but I don’t think they can live there anymore. You ruined it with your perverted talk. Now that my walls aren’t being constantly splattered with shit anymore, there is some room for redecorating. Maybe I’ll smash the packets against the wall. Or squish them under my boot. Or maybe I won’t use them at all. Maybe I’ll just throw them in the garbage and let them rot.

Anything is better than gentle refrigeration. I feel violated.

Gintoki

 

* * *

 

YOROZUYA:

FUCK YOUR SADISM; THIS IS GOING TOO FAR. THERE ARE SOME LINES YOU DON’T CROSS.

DON’T HURT THE MAYO, YOU BASTARD.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

Strike a nerve, did I? Good. I had to deal with a storm of shit – a shitstorm, if you will – for two straight weeks because of you. Don’t think you’re off the hook because you paid the bill in the end. You should have paid in the beginning.

I haven’t had a chance to use my cutting board recently. I think I’ll cut one of the mayo packets into thin packet strips, and then slide the massacred remains into the toilet. I’ll piss on it then let the whole mess stew for hours before I actually flush. That’ll give me some time to take some pictures of everything and send them over to you.

Gintoki

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

Stop. I can’t focus on my work. I keep thinking about what you could be doing to them. You can’t do this.

I’m coming over. I’m coming to rescue them. Prepare yourself.

H


	5. Chapter 5

Dear Otsu-chan:

I am a huge fan of your internet advice column. I have been reading it since the very first edition popped up in Super Otsu Online Weekly Vol #28. Your words always get right to the heart of the matter, and I know many readers must have been inspired to turn their lives around in a whole new direction after hearing what you had to say. Your column on 'Uncles Who XX' had me sobbing for weeks.

So far, I have been more than content just to bask in the glow of the warm words of advice you have given to others, but today I am writing to you about a problem of my own. I know that if anyone can help me figure out what to do here, it is you, Otsu-chan.

I guess I will get right down to it. I think one of my friends is prostituting himself to pay off his debts. First off, let me just say that I have no problem with him doing this. Really, it is about time he got off his lazy butt and got his finances in order. As one of his loyal employees, I am looking forward to the day when his finances are in order enough for me to get steady paychecks. I plan to launder the money first, don’t worry. I mean, put it in the actual laundry. Not money laundering. Um, anyways…

That’s not the problem. The problem is that he’s bringing this side business into our place of business. The office. The office also happens to be where he lives, but still. He needs to be more discreet about this, because he is also living with a fourteen year old girl. That’s how I found out about all of this in the first place.

She told me that she came home one night (to the office) to find the place clean. This was a big deal because for the last few weeks some debt collectors had been trashing the place to try and get money they were owed. Now, all of sudden, she came home and the boss told her it’s all over. The debt’s gone. Doesn’t explain why. He just picked his nose and continued watching late night variety television.

Then she saw something on the wall. She said it was a streak of white, wobbly, and goopy stuff. When she pointed this out to our boss, he looked slightly startled then shifty – or, as she put it, like someone who just got up to talk in front of a bunch of people and suddenly realized they really had to fart. Then he said to ignore it, got an old Shonen Jump from the garbage, and used the magazine to wipe it up. As he was doing so, she noticed there was the same goopy stuff on the back of his neck.

With these pieces of evidence it has become clear to me that my boss decided to get a little dirty to help clean up the office, which is not a problem, but it also seems as though he is doing his dirty work in the office, which is a problem. This is where I wanted your advice Otsu-chan: how do I tell my boss I am proud of his choice to prostitute himself for us, but he needs to keep those choices far away from his employees’ eyes?

Always and forever your #1 fan,

My Glasses Make My Eyesight 2Otsu/2Otsu

 

* * *

 

Dear Glasses-kun,

Thank you sooo much for writing to me and being such a loyal fan (~elephant’s pedicure~). I will do what I can to help you with this tough situation (~freewheeling appetizers~).

First off, unless this has been going on for a while, keep in mind that all of this is super new both for you and your boss (~sand in your toe ring~). We all have to start from somewhere (~diver’s insurance~)!

For example, you have figured out that your boss got enough money to pay off your debt with this sexcapade, but before that he wouldn’t have enough money to rent a hotel room for a client and I doubt he is yet high enough on the whore totem pole for his clients to pay for a hotel room themselves (~crystal mafia wind chimes~). The only places he could have hosted his sex-transaction would have been in his house or on the street, and street deals don’t pay as much as sheet deals, I’ll tell you that much (~frog indigestion~). Once he gets more money from this work, he can work on being more discreet (~helicopter wages~). You might want to consider getting him a pimp to manage some of the details for him if the business really starts taking off (~tissues gaining maturity~).

For now, though, just let him know that as he is supporting you, you are supporting him (~skiing Olympus Mons~). Take him to one of my concerts and talk it out (~berry forgiveness~). You can both work together to make this situation the best it can be (~auctioning civil liberties~)!

Lots of loove~

Otsu <3

 

-Super Otsu Online Weekly Vol 584 Pg 283

 

* * *

  

Dear Otsu-chan,

I knew your advice would be incredible, but even that was an understatement. You have helped me more than I can say. I wanted to update you on the progress you helped me make!

I took your suggestion and invited my boss to one of your concerts. He refused, but I really think it oiled the gears of the conversation that took place.

I just decided to straight up ask him about the white stuff that his young child housemate had seen, which got him all defensive. He started asking what was wrong with a little character on the walls. He said it showed our home had stories.

Before he got too deep into all his excuses, I stopped him to tell him I knew what was going on, which froze him in his tracks. Into that silence I said I was proud of him.

My boss got weirdly shy at this. His cheeks looked flushed and his mouth kept twitching creepily. Looking the other way, he told me it was no big deal and I shouldn’t expect anything to come of any of it.

Now, I have to say I am happy with my comeback here. I think it was a winner. I wonder what your readers will think.

In response, I said, “Would it be so bad if I did?”

I replied in a way that was both supportive and kind about his future as a sex worker! I like to think I have grown a lot in these past couple weeks. My boss seemed to think so too. He coughed and mumbled in the direction of the wall, before kicking the coffee table and curling up on the couch with a magazine. That tends to be his way of acknowledging kindness.

The conversation would have ended there if my boss had any say in the matter, but both you, I, and your readers know there was still one more issue I had to discuss. I had to make sure he was moving in a direction that would keep his money making away from the office.

I asked him if he could maybe work on taking his activities somewhere else so he would not have to have any more awkward conversations with me or his young housemate about white, goopy stuff. In reply, he muttered that he could probably get the other guy to spring for a room since it was his white, goopy stuff causing the problems in the first place. To this, he added that he didn’t see the big deal with exposing his teenage housemate and I to the goop, because it was showing us that compromise was a necessary and real part of the adult lifestyle.

I told him it was still too early. We may both be happy with this, but neither of us wants to see it.

He seemed surprised to hear his young housemate was also approving. He asked if she was really okay with all of this too.

I let him know she was better than okay. Though that might be because she is expecting to get some nice meals out of his new lifestyle.

My boss didn’t respond to this and instead grabbed a second magazine from the coffee table, pretending to simultaneously read both at once.

I left at this point, and I think both of us were very happy with how our talk went. My boss could become a rather successful, moneymaking whore. It is very new, but it is going well thanks to you, Otsu-chan!

Always your biggest fan,

My Glasses Make My Eyesight 2Otsu/2Otsu

 

* * *

 

Dear Glasses-kun,

You are doing so great (~fried grass stains~)! Keep being supportive and watch your boss become a breadwinner (~mechanical armistice~).

Lots of loove~

Otsu <3

 

-Super Otsu Online Weekly Vol 592 Pg 246

 

* * *

 

Dear Otsu-chan,

Never mind about everything. It was mayonnaise. All of it was mayonnaise. I’m thinking of quitting my job. Should I quit my job?

Demoralized and depressed,

My Glasses Make My Eyesight 2Otsu/2Otsu

 

* * *

 

Yes.

Otsu

 

-Super Otsu Online Weekly Vol 595 Pg 270


	6. Chapter 6

Hijikata-kun,

You forgot your wallet on your way back this time. Here it is. I kept a few yen for myself to remember you by. It’s not fair that the hotel gets more of your money than me.

Gin

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

Harada got a hold of your last letter and now the whole of the Shinsengumi think I frequent some prostitute named Gin. Turns out there is a some old bag working in Yoshiwara who goes by the alias Gin. That’s you now. 

And stop stealing my money, asshole.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

Why is it so easy for people to get a hold of your mail all the time? You really should work on that.

Anyway, sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction. Glad you have an easy lie to keep up, because most times you’re terrible at hiding things. I’m still not sure how you got to be the Vice Commander of a police organization.

Gin

ps When’s your next day off?

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

My next day off is Fuck You.

Did you notice how I just hid the details of my day off in this letter? Looks like I’m fine at hiding whatever I damn well want.

See you Wednesday night.

H

 

* * *

 

Dear Gin-san,

I apologize for not being able to come see you in person, but your place of business is not a place a man of my position should be seen entering. My positions being twofold: the commander of the Shinsengumi and a man wooing a woman he loves. Any rumors regarding my coming to see you would unfortunately do me no good on either count. I do not trust myself to be as covert as Toshi apparently has been.

He is the reason I am writing to you today. Even if I cannot see you, I wanted to send you this letter to express my gratitude for all you have done for my dear friend and second in command. I do not know the precise details of how you and Toshi are, as I’m sure you know how tight lipped he is. The only reason I know of his relationship with you at all is because we found one of your letters to him at the barracks. Rumor has it he has been seeing you for a few months now. That sounds about right.

I say that, because I may not have known why it was happening, but I did see that something was going on. Toshi has the world on his shoulders, and he carries that burden for me and the rest of our men without a word of complaint. Recently, that burden has looked a bit lighter, and he seems happier for it. I usually had to bully him into using his allotted time off of work, but he has taken to protectively guarding his days off, and disappearing to parts unknown for most of them (I realize now that these parts were your privates). When he comes back to work after these days, he is tired but recharged.

Coming to the realization that this is your doing, I could not help sending you my gratitude and support. If Toshi has chosen you then that is good enough for me. Age is only a number, and I’m sure your high number is a plus in the bedroom, because it means you’ve got experience.

I have ordered my messenger to take this letter back from you and destroy it once you are done reading it, because this is not something I can leave physical evidence of. No one will see these words except for you and me. That is why I can say you may not have my support on paper, but you have it in my heart. I will do anything in my power to keep you safe by Toshi’s side. Take care of him for me.

My thoughts are with you, Gin-san. Not in a sexy way, of course, but in a paternal way, even though they say you’re like three times as old as me, but that’s fine.

Kondo Isao

 

* * *

 

Kondo-san,

Thanks for the letter. I’m keeping it, by the way. If Jimmy-kun thinks he can snatch it away from me, he’s got another thing coming. I’m taller, so I’ll win any game of keep away.

Speaking of Jimmy, I get the feeling you and him got your wires crossed with where to send this letter. I’m guessing you didn’t want to send this to Yorozuya’s Gin-san, and were instead aiming for the prostitute named Gin-san that your Vice Commander is apparently porking. When there’s two people with the same name in your address book, you’ve got to specify which one before releasing the messenger boy. I’m sure you must not have specified, because it’s not as if Jimmy would have thought I would be the person revving Hijikata-kun’s motor, because that would be ridiculous! Jimmy and I just shared a BIG laugh about that. A big one.

Anyway, I’m just glad to hear my tax dollars are being well spent paying Hijikata-kun to pay some sexy old fiend to work on removing the stick that’s been buried in his ass for all these years. That’s all I could ask for as a citizen of Edo. It seems like it’s all you could ask for too.

Cheerfully,

YOROZUYA’s Gin-san

 

* * *

 

Gintoki,

What a mixup! I can see why you’re laughing, because I’m laughing too! When I told Yamazaki to give this letter to Gin-san, I didn’t even stop to think that Gin-san could mean you as much as it could mean an old Yoshiwaran prostitute! Haha! I am embarrassed that I did not see it sooner.

After all this, there is one more favor I have to ask of you since you’re in on the secret. Deliver the letter to the right Gin-san. As someone unattached to the Shinsengumi name, your actions will be less likely to be traced back to me. This letter includes the first half of my payment to you for the job. You’ll get the rest after you tell me what they say in reply.

Thanks,

Kondo

 

* * *

 

Kondo-san,

The letter in question has been read by the Gin-san spending their late nights with your Vice Commander.

Thanks for your business.

Gintoki

 

* * *

 

Gintoki,

Great, but what did they say?! Was there a smile? A frown? Did they think I was meddling too much? What do they like about Toshi? Don’t think you’re getting the rest of the money unless you give me a full report.

Kondo

 

* * *

 

Kondo-san,

The Gin-san that’s giving your Hijikata-kun a good time thinks you’re being annoying. Fathers who chaperone their sons’ proms to make sure their sons get laid, are the ones that make sure their sons don’t get laid. Stop hovering and trust your big boy to fuck and fuck up as he will.

Yeah. That’s what they said.

Gintoki

 

* * *

 

Gintoki,

Here’s your money, and a little extra for you to deliver this last letter to Gin-san. I just couldn’t leave things as they were. Tell me what they say when they get this:

 

Gin-san,

I hope you aren’t under the impression that I was trying to chaperone your prom date with Toshi. Quite the opposite! I wanted to let you know that I will do my best to keep any eyes off of you as you do the do in the backseat of the broken down jalopy in the gymnasium parking lot.

Toshi chose you, and that matters infinitely more to me than anything any high flying government official could say about your past or your gray hair. It doesn’t matter who you are; it just matters who you are to him. I’m saying that some people might not get that, but I do, and I’ll do my best to make sure it’s all okay. In return, stand by Toshi, please, no matter what comes. Unless he loses interest. In that case, I hope you can be classy about a breakup.

All the best to you,

Kondo

 

* * *

 

Kondo-san,

Your latest letter has been read by Hijikata-kun’s prom date. In response, they said that gray hair is actually a sign of great virility. Also, I’m always classy.

That’s what they said.

Gintoki

 

* * *

 

Gintoki,

Thank you for all of your help! It has been so great to be able to communicate with Gin-san and get to know some of the strong, spunky character that Toshi has gotten to know so well. Let’s meet tonight for drinks so you can tell me all about it. I insist. Don’t worry, I’ll buy.

Kondo

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

I can’t meet you tonight. I have to go drinking with your superior officer and talk with him about your romantic tryst with the geriatric prostitute in Yoshiwara.

Is this our version of me meeting your parents?

Gin

 

* * *

 

GINTOKI:

WHAT? HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? KONDO-SAN HAS BEEN GIVING ME WEIRD, HAPPY LOOKS ALL DAY. CANCEL NOW.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

He said he’s buying the drinks. There’s no way I’m canceling on that.

Don’t worry though. I’ve got it all handled. You’ll see.

Gin

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

I’ll pay your rent for a month. Cancel now.

H

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

Fine. Two months, you money-grubbing asshole.

H

 

* * *

 

Gintoki:

Tell me what you want.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

Fine. Since you asked so nicely, I want you to get a tattoo on your right butt cheek of my face. This face, in particular. Show me how much you love me.

(Attached to the letter is a headshot of Gintoki picking his nose blandly and staring dead ahead.)

Gin

 

* * *

 

GINTOKI:

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU. I’M NOT DOING THAT.

H

 

* * *

 

GINTOKI:

IF THIS IS SOME KIND OF NEW FOREPLAY YOU’RE TRYING OUT, NOW IS NOT THE TIME. FUCK YOU. IF I WASN’T IN THE MIDDLE OF A JOB, I’D BE AT YOUR PLACE CUTTING YOUR DICK OFF WITH A RUSTY BUTTERKNIFE RIGHT NOW.

H

 

* * *

 

GINTOKI:

THIS IS OVER IF YOU DON’T STOP. I MEAN IT.

H

 

* * *

 

Gintoki:

Fine. I’m doing it. You just keep all of this away from Kondo-san.

The tattoo guy says it’s going to take a lot of sessions but he got part of the outline done today in between my goddamn meetings. See. Now go through with your end of the fucking bargain.

(Attached to the letter is a photograph of a butt check with a red, irritated patch of skin in the shape of two dead fish eyes and a finger in a nose. It strangely brings to mind the book cover of The Great Gatsby.)

H

 

* * *

 

Target: Terrorist Cell SEE028

Surveillance Report #5

Team: 1

Author: Captain Okita Sogo

Nothing to report today. I skipped out on the stakeout to sabotage the shitstain Hijikata’s attempts to bribe his butt buddy out of getting drinks with Kondo-san. I made sure that none of his letters of bribery actually made it to their intended recipient, and instead used them to make a collage on a 4x4 foot poster board that also has various pictures of Hard Gay in striking poses stuck all over it. I’m going to hide in his room tonight and put it next to his futon as he sleeps, so it’s the first thing he sees when he wakes up.

This report will be there too, so he knows that I was actually the one who wrote him a reply to his pathetic, pleading letters. I’m so glad he’s getting the tattoo I suggested.

End of report

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

Hey, I know you were worried about last night, so I’ll tell you everything went fine! The beer was great, and the company wasn’t bad. Your boss asked me more about Otae-san than anything else.

You can buy me a drink this week and I’ll tell you all about it. How about it?

Gin

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

No, it’s fine. I won’t be able to meet for a while.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

Haven’t seen you around in over a month. Not to sound clingy or anything, but um. What’s up?

Gin

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

I’m busy.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

If you want to end things, at least have the decency to fondle someone else’s ass in front of me or something. I need closure. This may be drunk lettering Gin-san saying this, but sober Gin-san has been thinking it. He’s been thinking it so much that he’s the reason drunk Gin-san is so drunk at this shitty back alley bar right now.

Yeah, so maybe we never made any agreements or commitments or other ‘ment’ words, but we were fucking all the time, and it kept being good, and then all of sudden you shut off all contact with me all at once. I know you get busy, but it’s been two months, and walking the other way when I come down the street you’re patrolling isn’t exactly the same as being ‘too busy’.

What happened? Whatever it was, I’m sorry. You get prissy and prickly and shut down sometimes when I piss you off instead of talking about it and sometimes I can’t figure out the issue so I can’t make it up to you. I want to make it right okay? You’ve turned me into the stupid husband that starts saying ‘yes dear’ at the end of every argument because the wife being right and happy has become more important than the husband’s ideals and pride.

Was it really because I went drinking with Kondo-san that night? Okay, if I’m being completely honest here, I think he knows that it is – or was – me and not the Yoshiwara bag. But is that really so bad? The gorilla seemed happy. Of course he was. I’m great!

So what’s the deal? It’s not like I fucking care or anything, but why?

Goddammit.

Gin

 

* * *

 

Gintoki:

I just can’t take my pants off for another four to five months.

If that’s too long for you, find someone else.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

Excuse me, but what? I’m assuming I drunk lettered you last night, but that doesn’t make your reply make any more sense.

What the hell does that mean? Have you taken a chastity vow? Is this an arts and crafts experiment gone horribly wrong? More importantly, what the hell is wrong with you?

Gintoki

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

Shut up. I just can’t, okay? Deal with it.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

Okay then. So that’s how it is. You can’t take your clothes off. Fine. But why does that mean you have to run in the other direction whenever you spot me? It’s not as if I’m Nanashi from Akiba’s Trip.

Gintoki

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

Shut the hell up. It just seems easier this way.

H

 

* * *

 

Toshi-chan,

Oh. I see. Keeping your clothes on is easier when I’m not around.

Thank you for clarifying. I feel better now.

Gin

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

Go die in a fire.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

You know, stripping is not the only thing that has to happen in my honored company. Now that I know about your strange, prohibitive dress code, we can both keep in mind the rules, and stay away from foul play during a joint outing. When’s your next day off? Let’s go drinking, and catch up. A bed won’t be involved, I promise.

Gin

 

* * *

 

Yorozuya:

Fine. I can meet Thursday night, as long as clothes. Stay. On.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

Okay, so maybe clothes didn’t exactly stay on, but is it really so terrible that I got to see your butt tattoo of me? I’m going to keep campaigning for you to stop with the tattoo removal process. Come on, why would you try and erase such beauty? My eyes are on your butt. This means I can always have your back.

I can’t believe you were going to try and avoid me until the tattoo was completely removed, you dumbass. I should be mad right now, but this whole thing is making me too damn happy. Soichiro-kun did well.

It’s not a big deal! Who else is going to see it? Okay, maybe it might easily be spotted eventually due to your warrior dormitory housing situation, but you could just pass it off as a birthmark, or a cancerous mole. It’s fine. Keep it.

KEEP IT.

I’ll give you 500 yen.

Gin

ps When’s your next day off?


	7. Chapter 7

Vice Commander:

I have something to report. It is about that bar you told me to investigate. The old, foreclosed Danny’s in Kabukicho that serves drinks under the table at night.

I know it’s been over half a year, but it’s only now that I’m starting to understand. There might be a problem. A big one.

That first week, after Sakata Gintoki’s first few letters to you, I looked into the place like you asked, but there was nothing to find. Except that everyone agreed that the sake was terrible, and that it made you forget what you’d done that night. Who you’d written to and what you’d said.

It did seem a little strange, how almost everyone who drank there ended up writing there too and keeping no memory of it, but there are lots of strange drinks in Edo that make people do lots of much stranger things, so I was not overly suspicious. Plus, people that were writing seemed… maybe not happy, but connected to their lives. They were writing out their hearts. At least, I liked to think so. I tried the sake once too, and although I can’t remember what I wrote, I can say I am glad that I wrote it. It felt honest. Does that make sense, Vice Commander? Maybe not. It is hard to explain to someone who hasn’t tried it themselves.

Like I mentioned in my initial report five months back, I took a bottle to our forensics team, and the report came back clean. There were no worrisome substances hidden in these drinks – at least, as far as our team of specialists could tell and not much gets by them, as you know. Turns out this time something did.

Remember all the news last week about the group of Ruomas intimidating interplanetary diplomatic envoys on this side of the galaxy over the past few months? And remember how pundits were speculating on why they were doing so, mentioning that the Ruoma leader had gone missing last year, and that maybe they were threatening war in order to find them? Also, remember how they called this missing leader Ucreu Vimit?

Well, the bartender at the Danny’s is called Vimit, and I saw a picture of the leader of the Ruomas named Vimit, and that Vimit looks a lot like the Kabukicho bartender Vimit.

Remember how Ruomas attack armies, Vice Commander? They control them. Their saliva contains a potent neurotoxin that compels beings to obey. I took another bottle of the sake back to our forensics team, getting them to test specifically for Ruoma saliva, and the results came back positive.

In sum, Vimit, the missing leader of the Ruomas, is for some reason spitting in the drinks at that bar in Kabukicho, which is why people are writing to people. I don’t know what this Amanto is planning with all this letter writing, but it already has a human army if it wants one. Ruoma saliva stays in the systems of its victims for at least a year and has an effective radius of about 175 kilometers. Essentially, someone would have to be all the way over in Nagano to ‘disobey’. According to my surveillance, at least 1200 different people in Edo have imbibed over the last six months. Including myself. And the commander. And most of the rest of the Shinsengumi.

I’m sorry.

I await your orders.

-Yamazaki

 

* * *

 

Yamazaki:

Go make friends with Vimit. See what you can find out. Then report back.

It’s not like you can get more compromised than you already are.

H

 

* * *

 

Sogo:

Find out who on your team has had the sake. See Yamazaki’s attached report.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-san,

Pretty much everyone here drank the Kool-aid. Kondo-san was handing out the stuff like Oprah on cocaine when his second shipment of the cases came through. He kept talking about how he wanted everyone to spread their love. There was a rash of STDs that swept through the barracks that month, so I am certain his goal was achieved.

I didn’t have any, but I can’t vouch for anyone else.

Worst case, it’s just you and me, huh? Wow, this sucks. I wish you were dead.

I’m going to go borrow some landmines and take care of you – I mean, this problem.

Sogo

 

* * *

 

Sogo:

NO LANDMINES! If word gets out that Vimit is here that’ll be enough of a mess. If we kill it and the Amanto find out, there won’t be enough time to spit out the word genocide before humanity’s just a bloodstain on the Rumoas’ carpet.

Our one path through is to make sure no one knows it was on Earth. This needs to be quick, clean, and untraceable.

I’m giving us three days for reconnaissance and evac. If shit goes south, I want as many of ours too far away for this thing to control. I will send Kondo-san and three Shinsengumi teams out of town. Any more would garner too much suspicion. You take care of your division, and anyone else you deem appropriate. We move on the Danny’s at 2 AM this Sunday.

We’re taking this thing down before it can use our people any more than it already has.

H

 

* * *

 

Roger.

S

 

* * *

 

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* * *

 

Vice Commander:

I know I went to the bar to observe the target, but I can’t remember a thing from last night. I’m sorry.

-Yamazaki

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

Our robot got a letter from your Jimmy this morning that raised a few red flags. He seemed to be hinting at the possibility of an insidious plot that could destroy everything with you all alone at the center of it. You know how I, the main character, feel about others hogging the glory of a climactic fight. In case I need to reiterate: I don’t like it.

Is there anything I can hit with my sword that would resolve worrisome plot points? Because I can do that. I wouldn’t even charge you money for it this time.

Gin

ps I’d charge you something else, in case that wasn’t clear.

 

* * *

 

Gintoki:

It’s nothing like that. Yamazaki just heard about how I was having trouble returning a shirt to JB Punnys the other day, and has really been worried about it, that’s all. I lost the tag, and the sales clerk won’t believe me even though I have the receipt. I am emailing with the store manager, so it should all work out.

Speaking of JB Punnys, when I was at the mall trying to return the shirt I put my name in a raffle going on outside the store just on a whim, and I actually ended up winning the grand prize! I got four tickets to the TengoSki resort in Nagano, all expenses paid, just for this weekend. Unfortunately, I am working during that time, so I’m giving them to you. Why don’t you take yourself, your kids, and your kid’s sister and have some fun? I hear there’s a ‘bottomless buffet’ or two at the resort.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

I am almost tempted to take your words at face value, because this is a really great vacation package. Irritatingly so. This is the type of deal travel agents give to the moneybags who storms their store demanding the triple diamond deluxe ultimate gold chocobo package.

It says there is a chocolate fountain at the buffet table. It says there is another chocolate fountain by the heated pool and Jacuzzi. It says there are more chocolate fountains in the middle of the ski slopes with bundles of fruits and cheeses and meats just waiting to be dipped if you ever want to have a fondue break in the middle of your skiing time – or maybe I dreamed up that last part, but I’m not entirely positive that’s fantasy talking, which should tell you a bit about how apocalyptically classy this joint is. This place actually sounds better than my best dreams, which is why you’re the worst. They should put your name on the list of war crimes inexcusable by the Geneva Conventions.

Why do you only give Gin-san luxury as a bribe or a scheme or to avoid conversation? Why can’t you treat me right even where there is no special occasion? Why does there always have to be a reason, you prick? WHY DO YOU NEVER BUY ME SUNDAES ON A THURSDAY AFTERNOON?!

I’m really worked up over this. It upsets me that I have to waste a trip that includes free, sprawling, mountainous buffets smothered in chocolate all because you’re no good at communicating. We need to work on this. I am setting up an appointment with Sanae. I’ll get back to you on timing.

In the meantime, take a moment or five to think about what you did.

Woe is Gin

 

* * *

 

Gintoki:

If you want the buffets that much just go on the trip. You’re getting upset over nothing. I’ll get you a sundae next Thursday if it’s that important.

Also, I am not going to ask who Sanae is, because I don’t care.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

Sanae is our new couple’s therapist and her first opening is next Tuesday at 2. I expect you to be there. We’ll meet at my place at 1:30 and walk over together.

Gin

 

* * *

 

STOP BEING RIDICULOUS AND GO TO NAGANO WITH YOUR KIDS THIS WEEKEND, DUMBASS.

H

 

* * *

 

Hijikata-kun,

If you have words to say, say them to my face – and Sanae’s.

Gin

 

* * *

 

Gintoki:

I’m busy. I don’t even have the time to be scribbling this down, but I am anyway.

I need you to trust me.

H

 

* * *

 

H,

Kagura, Shinpachi, Otae, and Kyubei are taking the trip. They promised they would take pictures of the chocolate fountains for me, which is a poor substitute for the real thing, but will at least give me something to wipe my tears on.

Turns out I have some work to do this weekend, so I can’t go. I’m not sure what the work is yet, but I’m assuming you’ll tell me eventually.

G

 

* * *

 

Gintoki:

FINE. Come over to the barracks. Have dinner with me. We’ll talk.

H

 

* * *

 

Gintoki:

If you’re reading this letter you’re most likely in Nagano by now. Be mad if you want, but I wouldn’t have had to put tranquilizers in your food if you just listened to me in the first place, you dumbass.

So you’re right. There wasn’t any free trip to Nagano, and there never will be. Nothing in life is free, and the discounts aren’t real either. Just because you don’t see the fine print on that $5 ticket to the comedy club that requires a two drink minimum doesn’t mean you’re exempt from paying what you owe. You pay in drinks, in blood, whatever they want.

Your cheap sake at that Danny’s had some hidden fees too, it turns out. Drinking that stuff puts you under the control of that bartender: Ucreu Vimit, the top Ruoma on this side of the galaxy. Once you’ve had a drink there that thing can make you stand on your head, it can make you kill your mother, whatever it wants.

That’s why you’re in Nagano now. The control only works up to a distance, and you’re outside of it. Nobody can make you do anything you don’t want to do. More importantly, no one can make you point your sword at my neck when I visit that Danny’s tomorrow. I haven’t had any of that cheap shit, so I am going to take care of this.

Sogo will drop by on Monday if we’re successful. If not, you might want to consider locating far away from here for at least a year, until the Ruoma juice is out of your system. That way, you can hold on to who you are long enough to punch anyone who tells you to be anything else.

I don’t know how much of who you were and what you did over these past few months was who you are, but the easy guess would be to say that at least those drunk letters – that Ruoma ink on those Danny’s menus – and what sprouted from those exchanges wasn’t your will. I’m sorry.

If you ever return to Edo, know I will treat you as I did a half year ago, without change or expectation. You owe me nothing, but I probably owe you a bit. I’ll buy you a couple parfaits if you ever ask.

Be well, Yorozuya.

H


	8. Chapter 8

Incoming text from: Vice Commander Hijikata

Yamazaki, why haven’t you confirmed your status? Have you successfully delivered the package?

 

Incoming text from: Yamazaki

Um. Yeah. Yes. Of course. Absolutely. Just about. Why are you asking?

 

Incoming texts from: Vice Commander Hijikata

‘Just about’?

YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO ARRIVE IN NAGANO 5 HOURS AGO. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?

 

Incoming text from: Yamazaki

I’m sorry, Vice Commander, but we had to make a quick pit stop. The Anpan Factory on the west side of town is holding tours of its warehouses today. We’re almost done though, and have three sacks full of anpan!

 

Incoming text from: Vice Commander Hijikata

YOU ONLY MADE IT TEN FUCKING KILOMETERS OUT OF KABUKICHO?

 

Incoming text from: Yamazaki

No. I mean, yes. But I had to. The Ruoma compelled me to go there!

 

Incoming text from: Vice Commander Hijikata

WHY THE HELL WOULD UCREU VIMIT WANT YOU VISITING AN ANPAN FACTORY? STOP BULLSHITTING ME, YAMAZAKI. COMMIT SEPPUKU FIVE TIMES!

 

Incoming text from: Yamazaki

It was anpan reconnaissance. It wanted to know about anpan. We’re almost done though, and then the package and I will go to Nagano.

 

Incoming texts from: Vice Commander Hijikata

I made a mistake. You need to commit seppuku ten times.

Wait.

The package is taking the tour with you? He should’ve been knocked out for a good 24 hours.

 

Incoming texts from: Yamazaki

Yes, the package woke up pretty quickly, and agreed to wander around the warehouse with me. The package is also badmouthing you a whole lot. It’s pretty awkward, Vice Commander. I don’t want to hear about your level of selfishness in the bedroom.

Although, if the package is being honest, you really should reciprocate more.

 

Incoming text from: Vice Commander Hijikata

SHUT HIM UP NOW! SHUT THE PACKAGE UP!

 

Incoming texts from: Yamazaki

I sacrificed some of my anpan to the package, but instead of eating it the package is using it as a visual metaphor for you.

The package is saying that anpan may taste good at the time, but if you have too much of it you get indigestion because it’s really a piece of shit. I am insulted on behalf of all anpan!

 

Incoming text from: Vice Commander Hijikata

YOU SHOULD BE INSULTED ON MY BEHALF!

 

Incoming texts from: Yamazaki

The package is yelling at the anpan, asking it what gave it the right to try and white knight this whole situation when its character color scheme is black. The package is saying that is just inappropriate visual story telling.  

The package is telling the anpan that its mindset is moldy and disgusting, like an anpan thrown in the garbage. But, Vice Commander, if you leave an anpan in its packaging, even a garbage environment won’t invite mold too quickly. Anpan are strong!

 

Incoming text from: Vice Commander Hijikata

Is this your way of trying to comfort me? You can stop doing that. How about you do your actual job instead?

 

Incoming texts from: Yamazaki

Oh no! The package stomped on it! The package threw the anpan on the ground and stomped on it! It’s horrible!

And Captain Okita is offering to let the package shoot the anpan with his bazooka!!! The humanity!

 

Incoming text from: Vice Commander Hijikata

WHY IS SOGO THERE?

 

Incoming text from: Yamazaki

He came around the beginning of the tour. He said that the Ruoma compelled him.

 

Incoming text from: Vice Commander Hijikata

THAT PIECE OF SHIT HASN’T EVEN HAD THE SAKE! I’LL KILL HIM! TELL HIM I’LL KILL HIM!

 

Incoming text from: Yamazaki

This is terrible, Vice Commander! Because of our violence against anpan they are throwing us out of the warehouse tour!

 

Incoming texts from: Vice Commander Hijikata

Yamazaki. Take this as an opportunity to do your goddamn job and deliver the goddamn package to goddamn Nagano.

And tell Sogo to haul ass back to the barracks. He has work to do before our trip to Danny’s tonight.

 

Incoming texts from: Yamazaki

ajahofo!qdj,

I was wondering who Jimmy was tapping away to, and now I see it’s you. Sergeant Dumbass.

I’m guessing I’m ‘the package’. Huh. That’s all I am to you? I never thought I’d say this, but you might be a little too obsessed with my junk.

 

Incoming text from: Vice Commander Hijikata

FUCK YOU. Take a hint, get in the car, and let Yamazaki drive you to Nagano.

 

Incoming text from: Yamazaki

How about you stop ordering everyone around and get a life of your own, Vice Commander-san? I know command is in your name, but you shouldn’t let that go to your head. People like you is why everyone hates the government.

 

Incoming text from: Vice Commander Hijikata

I’m not ordering! I’m asking. Aggressively.

 

Incoming text from: Yamazaki

And you think I’ll just listen to you? If you want something, I’ll just give it to you? If you yell loud enough, I’ll just give in? Have you met me, fuckface? I only do what I want.

 

Incoming text from: Vice Commander Hijikata

I have had the misfortune of meeting you, which is why I know you only walk in the direction of your own shortsighted self-interests. Getting away from this town right now seems right up that alley, so I’m getting really sick and tired of your pointless heel-digging, dumbass.

 

Incoming texts from: Yamazaki

Oi. Toshi. Oi. Are you reading the words I am typing? Are you looking at them closely? Are you remembering how reading comprehension works?

Flashback to those tests you took in the fifth grade when your teacher with the lazy-eye gave you essays to read about young boys floating down rivers and frogs taking trips to the city, where you had to answer questions about the boys’ extended families’ occupations and the frogs’ political leanings.

I know you got lots of red marks on those tests, but Lazy-Eye Sensei and I know you tried, and you can try now too!

 

Incoming text from: Vice Commander Hijikata

What the fuck are you talking about?

 

Incoming texts from: Yamazaki

I only do what I want.

I only do who I want.

That hasn’t changed. Not even in these last few months.

Take your head out of your ass and look to the sun, Toshi! There’s a whole other world and perspective outside of your anus!

 

Incoming texts from: Vice Commander Hijikata

You can’t know that for sure right now, you goddamn idiot! That’s the whole point! GET YOUR OWN HEAD OUT OF YOUR OWN ASS AND GET OUT OF THIS TOWN.

And what’s with calling me Toshi all of a sudden? It’s creepy.

 

Incoming text from: Yamazaki

I feel we have reached the point in our relationship where I should be calling you by your first name. I will overuse the moniker at first, so you can get used it, Toshi. That’s immersion therapy, Toshi.

 

Incoming texts from: Vice Commander Hijikata

WHY DID YOU REACH THIS REVELATION NOW OF ALL TIMES?

Actually, no, don’t answer that. There is no relationship!

You may not be able to understand this right now, but I took advantage of you, Yorozuya. You are not in your right mind. Get away from here and you’ll realize that.

 

Incoming texts from: Yamazaki

Let me get this straight.

Actually, bad choice of words, but I’ll continue.

Remember that time last week?

You, Toshi, think that when I, Gintoki, blindfolded you and tied you to that chair, your dick took up your sword, held it to my neck, and demanded I sit on it? You think you have a tried and true Neo Armstrong Cyclone Jet Armstrong Cannon down there? Don’t think so highly of yourself!

 

Incoming text from: Vice Commander Hijikata

IT’S NOT THAT SIMPLE.

 

Incoming texts from: Yamazaki

Oh, but it is. You know me. You knew me before all this. And that’s what makes this simple. You should be able to tell the difference between a pretender and the real slim shady.

If you can’t see that by this point, I’m done trying to convince you.

Vice Commander! This is Yamazaki! I just got back my cell phone! And the package is getting into the car! I will drive us both to Nagano right away!

 

Incoming text from: Vice Commander Hijikata

Good. And Yamazaki? Tell Gintoki

 

Incoming texts from: Yamazaki

What?

 

Incoming texts from: Vice Commander Hijikata

Nevermind.

Just delete your entire text history within the next five seconds or commit seppuku.

 

* * *

 

Gintoki:

I can’t stop thinking about you. Ever since I sent you away I knew it was a mistake. You’re too stupid to let a compelling neurotoxin get the best of you. Just like colds, idiots are immune to those kinds of things, right?

I want you here fighting beside me. I want you here. I want you.

Or something like that!!!

Did you think I was him? For a moment, did you think I was him? Your slutty little Shinsengumi side piece?

As you know, I, Sa-chan, am a master of disguise whether it be for an assassination mission or a sexy bedroom cosplay, so I can easily transform my words into those of a pathetic tsundere with a laughable commitment to M-ing your S, Gin-san. If that is the kind of play you want, I can give it to you! I could even cut my hair, dye it black, trade in my glasses for a voice modulator, and be everything you need and more. I could stoop to levels that flighty prude wouldn’t even dream of!

Or is that sharp yet wavering resistance part of the fun? Slowly breaking down the barriers of a conservative innocent, pushing past their pleading no’s until you hear the breathy yes? Is the chase exhilarating? Because I can say no! If you want me to, I can say no!

Or! Or do you just want someone you can use to stick your **** in their ***** and **** and ******, and **** their ***** while they **** your ****** and ****?!

Oh! I got so excited I just spilled natto in conveniently sexy locations. Consider those natto-covered words to be the lingerie for this letter. It gives the imagination some work to do. And whatever your imagination comes up with, I will do that Gin-san! I will do it!

So that’s how it is. Anything he can do, I can do better. When you’ve decided to be your best S, just give a shout. I will leap down from my hiding place above you in the rafters and be your every fantasy come alive!!

That is what this letter is all about. I caught wind of this Ruoma business and I knew I needed to do something. I agonized for days over what course of action I should take until it led me here: sipping up the Ruoma spit at the Danny’s and writing to you. I realized this could all be really hot.

The Ruoma seems to be all about getting people to bone with all this horndog letter writing, so I knew I needed to join in. With both of us under this creature’s command, our S&M plays will lift up to a whole new level! The boundaries between will and submission will merge into the sexiest kinkfests! I am going to give this Vimit a huge list of scenarios to draw inspiration from tonight, after it’s finished taking care of your boytoy. Speaking of, that guy’s pretty screwed, and not in the love hotel kind of way. Did you realize this would happen? Was this your way of ending things so you could call me to your bed instead?

Both your incompetent Shinsengumi M and that young, promising Shinsengumi S crashed into the Danny’s a half hour back, at which point the bartender ordered all the bar patrons to defend this place from the invaders. It was just a few of us still there that late in the night, so they might have had a chance if the M hadn't obeyed too! Turns out that even though that prude never had any of the sake, he’d been swishing his dirty tongue around in your mouth enough times to get some of your infected spit, Gin-san. You STDed him into submission! I AM SO JEALOUS!

Anyway, once that S made a strategic retreat, Vimit ordered your M up into the back room with it, so I have to wait to give the Ruoma my ‘play’list! I can be patient though. I can be as patient as you need me to be!  I will write you letters as I wait. I will write you enough letters to eclipse any other letters anyone else might write!

Sarutobe Ayame

No, wait, if I am signing my name to you, it should be as your intended. Like this:

Sakata Ayame

Actually, that isn’t going far enough. If I were to take your name, I would want all of it! I want to become Ms. Sakata Gintoki with no name of my own! YOU would be my identity and purpose, and I would only be referred to as your property! Yes, you would own my mind, body, and soul, but especially my body. Take me, Gin-san! Take me now! AHHHH!

Ms. Sakata Gintoki aka Sa-chan aka Your Love Slave <3

Actually, even this isn’t going far enough! Who am I to decide what I should be called? Does a dog decide to be Fido and then tell its owner its decision? No! The owner chooses the name and the dog must respond! Does your rival in Pokemon have any right to complain when you confirm to Professor Oak that their name is Dickballs? No! Dickballs knows you are in control! Dickballs knows that Dickballs always has been and always will be their name, because you told them it was so.

The same goes for me, Gin-san. You just have to tell me what I am to be called and I will respond. I WILL ALWAYS RESPOND!

So I cannot sign my name here. Doing so would be far too presumptuous! Instead I will leave a space for you to write what you choose. Name me! Mark me! BRAND ME!

Name: _______ _______ _______ _______ _______ _______ _______


	9. Chapter 9

Gintoki:

Vimit is telling me I should write you a letter.

Well, you were right. There is never a scenario when I would ever come to this bar and drink this sweetass shit of my own free will. You can have the Danny’s. I’ll take my working pancreas to a place that don’t sell neurotoxins to hypoglycemics.

Hijikata

 

* * *

 

Gintoki:

Apparently that last letter wasn’t good enough. Vimit’s telling me to write ‘once more, with feeling.’ Okay.

I feel like Vimit is a huge idiot. It just told me its whole big reason for coming to Earth, and I haven’t heard such whining since Tosshi went up to the great ComicCon in the sky.

Back on its ship, there was this Ruoma who Vimit was trying to get in the sack: Frushwie. But Frushwie always avoided it or tried to put poison in its foot containers, so Vimit kept going over to leak sadness ectoplasm in the ship’s cargo bay. After enough Ruoma started making awkward comments about the state of the cargo bay, Vimit ran off to Earth and posed as a bartender to learn more about love and how the creatures on our planet did it. That’s why no one remembers what they write in their drunk letters. It’s been absorbing those memories to try and learn some moves. On that subject, it keeps asking me how you bagged me, and while I can’t make a fist right now, I am punching the shit out of this thing in my head.

If anyone bagged anyone, it was me! Your drunk letters may not have made that clear to Vimit, but I was totally the seducer, not the seducee. Your letters were too stupid to convince anyone, so obviously I had to be the one doing the convincing. 

Vimit doesn’t believe me, which is really pissing me off. It keeps digging at my feelings and trying to pick apart my thoughts in ways no one has any business doing!

I am fighting a battle of wills with the equivalent of that imbecile in a mmorpg who gets all the DLC that money can buy, so they are insanely powerful, but they just want to hit on chicks. ‘Ohhh, check out my armor that makes me look like a dragon with a six pack, and my sword that sings a random song from Grease in a minor key at the top of every hour! They give me almost unlimited attack and defense, but I have never actually fought anything with them, because I am too busy a/s/l-ing anything that moves!’

Not that I know anything about any of that.

Screw this. Here’s what I’m going to do. I am going to wingman this Ruoma so hard that Vimit leaves me and the rest of Earth alone. Followkata Toshifollow is coming out of retirement.

Vimit has stolen the memories of the moments when its customers have come to write at its bar, and I’m betting some of those people got laid, so I just need to get it to use those new skills it must have absorbed to write a hot and sweet letter to Frushwie. This is gonna be a cinch.

H

 

* * *

 

Dear Frushwie,

Having you in my heart is the next best thing to having you by my side. Thanks for the freebees! I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I’M HORNY. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I’M HORNY. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I’M HORNY.

Love,

Vimit

 

* * *

 

Gintoki:

Shit. This is bad. Kondo’s influence was leaking all over that Ruoma’s letter. No human, Amanto, or otherwise is going to go for it! Apparently Vimit has been trying to write letters for a while now, but the deeper it digs for inspiration the more Kondo it gets. Vimit can minimize the effects, so Kondo only takes up about 80% of the letter content, but it can’t Kondo any lower than that. As that Ruoma infected all of our brains, Kondo infected the Ruoma’s. I am both proud and ashamed of my commander. I feel that way a lot, actually.

Now that I think about it, Earth may be doomed. If this is the best this thing can do after stealing the memories of thousands of people, Vimit is just going to sink deeper and deeper into a depression fueled by its utterly pathetic inability to bag anyone, and when its fellow Ruoma find it in this state they may just blow up our planet out of embarrassment instead of trying to get back their stupid leader. Speaking of pathetically depressed, as it reads this letter over my shoulder Vimit is already leaking a bunch of sadness ectoplasm. It really needs to use one of its fourteen pincers to get a grip.

H

 

* * *

 

Gintoki:

Vimit is making me be honest. To you. Real honest. I don’t want to do this.

It thinks it might be able to copy what I write here into some better letter for Frushwie, but if that method hasn’t worked for the last bunch of people who drank at its bar, I don’t know how it expects this time to be any different. Desperation, maybe.

Well, here goes.

You wrote me a bunch of shit in your letters. They were a mess, but they seemed genuine. At least, the drunk ones were at first, and the sober ones caught up eventually. You were proposing something with your written words and I agreed, so yes the letters were the reason I actually went to that hotel with you the first night, but I never would have done so if I didn’t love you and those letters didn’t make me love you. You did that. You wore me down over the years.

I think it was right about the time I found out that you were the fucking Shiroyasha that I realized how bad I had it for you, which was really fucking inconvenient for me as Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi. Without my noticing, it had all of a sudden gotten to the point where I couldn’t imagine Edo without you.  I couldn’t imagine a town where I couldn’t carve out some nights just sitting next to you shooting the shit. And I found myself wondering just what lengths I would have gone to protect that. To protect you. I’m glad I’ve never been put in a position where I had to find out. Instead, it has been good just existing on the periphery of your life, crossing paths whenever time and place deemed fit to collide us. I want you to know I was satisfied with that. It made me happy just to know that you were out there.

I thought I was going to make a habit out of loving people I could never actually hold, but you had to be so goddamn persistent that I let it happen. I should’ve trusted my instincts instead of getting greedy, because these last few days have helped me realize that the persistence probably wasn’t you at all. If Vimit can order me to try and kill Sogo, it can order you to manufacture feelings for an acquaintance. I don’t know how I am ever going to look you in the eyes again.

Since I found out about the Ruoma’s control I haven't had much time for sleep, but the few hours I did manage to catch were filled with nightmares. Here’s one: you’re bound to a chair in the same way you’ve tied me up before, and you’re screaming, begging for me to untie you. If I wanted to, I could do that. There’s just one knot at the center of things I could easily untie with a tug of my fingers, but I won’t. I just stand there as you struggle until, finally, I lean down to kiss your forehead. You spit in my face and tell me no and that’s when I get a knife and start peeling away your skin. You keep screaming and demanding I let you go as the blood starts to pour. I put the knife to my tongue and taste you. Then an orange elephant wearing a monocle comes in to ask me if the fortune cookies are ready yet, and you get all giggly and tell him they’re in the mailbox, so the monocle transforms into a picture frame that drops in slow motion toward the ground in a really stressful way, which is when I woke up. The last part was probably not as relevant to my point, but I need to be completely honest.

I betrayed you in a deep, fundamental way and I just want to erase it all. I would if I could. I need you to know that. Not that it makes anything any better, I know.

Do you remember that night about a month back when we were spending some time in that hotel a couple blocks down from the financial district? That night was the grand opening of some new skyscraper or whatever, and they started launching fireworks in celebration. We were right in the middle of our own activities when they started theirs, and you insisted we open the curtains, because you wanted to see out, but I wanted them shut, because I didn’t want anyone looking in and seeing what we were doing. We argued until we just ended up sitting naked in the two chairs next to the window watching the fireworks, drinking beer, and forgetting about sex. You propped your bare feet on top of my thighs, gazing at the sky, and telling me about that time you were hired to set off fireworks and ended up singing off your eyebrows and the front half of your perm. I told you about the one time my brother bought me some sparklers and I ended up starting a small fire in front of the house.

During the grand finale, the sky was probably as bright as day, but I wasn’t looking that way. I was watching you. Seeing your profile illuminated by a soft rainbow of color, your eyes turning to meet mine at a lazy half mast, your smile warm and playful, something inside me crumpled. The last part standing against this surrendered. I knew it then: you were it for me. Whatever happened tomorrow or the next day or the day after that, my heart would be here.

You must have noticed something in my face, because you lifted your feet, parted your legs, and welcomed me to you. The next morning when I woke up I had the worst fucking crick in my neck and my back was a mess for days, but it didn’t matter. I knew where I stood.

I hate this so much. I hate it. I have to be honest with you now at a time when it would be better to lie. It would be better for you and for me if I told you I didn’t feel anything and was just playing around now that you’ve been released from whatever control you’ve been under. Now that you aren’t being forced to think you give a shit about me. But since I have to tell you and you have to know, I need you to understand just one thing. You can’t

 

China’s here. She just crashed through a window and barreled into Vimit, who is now leaking frightness ectoplasm. Ugh, this place smells.

Wait, didn’t you send that girl to Nagano? Why is she here now? She wants me to leave with her, but I need to write this letter. I have to tell you things honestly. I can’t leave yet. I’m not done.

Oh, Sogo’s back too. He’s crawling in through the hole China opened here on the second floor. He’s pouring a bottle of chloroform onto a cloth and walking in our direction. If he’s trying to knock out Vimit, that’s quite a gamble. Who knows if substances that work on humans in one way will work in the same way on Amafewvrhyy


	10. Chapter 10

Vice Commander:

Here are the transcripts you were requesting. Pages 1-8 cover Captain Okita’s in-depth interview with Hanano Saki, pages 9-13 cover his appearance on Tamo-san Hour, pages 14-18 detail his time on Oedo TV’s 6 o’clock news segment, and pages 19-21 list the soundbites he gave out to local radio stations.

I like to think the PR backlash on this won’t be as bad as I think it will be. I like to think that.

Yamazaki Sagaru

 

_Hanano: Sogo-san, Kagura-san, thank you for sitting down to talk with me. Our viewers have been eager to hear more about just what happened to our city._

_Okita: [loudly chewing gum] I just saved humanity from certain destruction. No big._

_Kagura: [loudly sucking sukonbu] That loser didn’t do anything. I was the one who saved everyone. Gin-chan begged me to leave my super amazing vacation to fix things because he was too weak to do it himself. Now where are my finger sandwiches? You said there would be finger sandwiches. What sort of fingers are in them anyway? Human fingers would make me super uncomfortable._

_Hanano: They don’t actually have fingers in them! And you’ll have a chance to eat after the segment. [coughs] It was recently confirmed that the missing Ruoma leader had actually been posing as a bartender here on Earth, taking many humans under its powerful sway. How did you actually get Ucreu Vimit to leave our planet in peace?_

_Kagura: I tried punching it, but it was really goopy and gross. And it got more goopy when I yelled at it. I think that was its version of snotty tears._

_Okita: Brute force wasn’t cutting it. But luckily for us, my superior officer, Hijikata Toshiro, Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi, personal phone number XXXXXXX, was under the creature’s control and had been shoehorned into the pathetic role of mindlessly documenting its plan. From those documents we learned that Hijikata is too incompetent and dumb to be capable of holding his position of Vice Commander and should be condemned in the court of public opinion immediately, and also that Vimit was here trying to learn how to be suave and get the ladies._

_Kagura: That was our way in._

_Hanano: So you taught the creature the human art of romance?_

_Kagura: Yeah. We took it to a convenience store and got it a couple of Cosmo mags._

_Okita: After reading for a while, it bought a box of donuts and took the first flight off world. I think it was inspired._

_Hanano: In what way? What is it going to do with the donuts? I feel really grossed out without knowing why._

_Okita: You know why._

_Hanano: No! No, I don’t!_

_Kagura: Don’t worry, Saki-chan. I think Cosmo puts a bunch of tips in there, so if the donuts don’t work I’m sure –_

 

“ENOUGH! ENOUGH ALREADY!” Gintoki yelled, as he slammed open the sliding door waving an angry fist. “IT’S DONE! I DECREE IT’S DONE! I, THE MAIN CHARACTER, SAY WE’RE FINISHED! I’M USING MY VETO! I WAS SAVING THAT VETO FOR A RAINY DAY, AND NOW THE KETSUNO ANA IN MY HEART SAYS IT’S POURING FOR THE WHOLE FIVE DAY FORECAST! NO MORE LETTERS! NOT ONE MORE! YOU HEAR ME?”

Hijikata looked up from the broadcast report he’d been skimming over in a steadily deepening despair and fury to stare incredulously at the Yorozuya screaming nonsense in the middle of his room at the Shinsengumi headquarters. Whoever let that guy in was really going to need to commit seppuku.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked.

“Filing an official complaint. This is unfair. I call foul. Red card!” Gintoki snapped, pulling an actual red card out of his kimono and throwing it hard enough to slice a nasty papercut right across the middle of Hijikata’s forehead.

“No really, what the fuck are you doing?” Hijikata repeated, but this time with a small trail of blood trickling down his cheek that he refused to acknowledge.

They stared at each other for a long, tense moment before Gintoki began staggering in Hijikata’s direction with the gait of a man walking straight toward a firing squad. His face grew paler and sallower with each step until he collapsed on the floor, letting his head hit the table next to Hijikata’s documents with a dull thud. He covered his face with his hands.

“I can’t do this,” he mumbled, running his fingers despairingly through his perm, fluffing up his hair to the level of an impressive and disastrous tumbleweed. “It’s too much. I can’t do this. Why are you making me do this?”

“Vimit’s off world. It can’t-”

“Not that fucking Amanto!” Gintoki growled and pointed, pushing his finger right into Hijikata’s papercut in a way that was more obnoxious than painful. “YOU!”

This close, Hijikata could smell the Yorozuya’s breath, and alcohol wasn’t on it. Maybe he was high, then.

“I’m not making you do anything,” he said breezily in the tone he often used with drunks and disorderlies who were so far from their right mind that it was questionable as to whether or not they would ever truly find it again. “How about you go home and sleep this off?”

“Don’t you think I tried?!” Gintoki spit and poked Hijikata’s papercut repeatedly and aggressively until Hijikata slapped the finger away. Gintoki then focused on slapping the hand that slapped his. An eye for an eye, a slap for a slap, and all that. Slaps turned into punches as Gintoki continued his rant. “All I’ve been do – Ow! Fuck you! – all I’ve been doing is trying to sleep it off, drink it off, pachinko it off, jerk it off. But it doesn’t work that, ngh, way! It works every other way but that way! It’s like if someone asks you not to – Gah! – not to think about pissing, what are you going to think about? KAYAKING DOWN NIAGARA FALLS, YOU SONOFABITCH!”

“THEN GO FIND A TOILET AND GO FUCKING KAYAKING!” Hijikata roared, throwing a punch at Gintoki’s solar plexus with the incoherent rage of a man whose patience had abandoned ship far too many sentences ago.

“THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING RIGHT NOW!” Gintoki yelled and head-butted Hijikata in the papercut.

Hijikata staggered back with a grunt, but he was far more concerned for the tatami mats than his head, glancing awkwardly at Gintoki’s crotch.

“I’M NOT ACTUALLY PISSING, YOU ASSHOLE!”

“YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY FUCKING SENSE!”

Gintoki held his snarl for a while longer until he sighed out all the air and exasperation in his lungs in one melodramatic heave. He slid his hand inside his kimono and pulled out a few balled-up sheets of paper crumpled to the point of near-disintegration, and covered in a rough and heavy scrawl.

“That night you spent with Vimit, you spent a whole damn lot of it writing to me,” he said. “Soichiro-kun handed me over the goods a couple days back. He said he was going to use it as blackmail material, but apparently it was too disgusting for him to deal with.”

Hijikata turned to stone - a sweaty, clammy stone that wanted to throw itself off a cliff.

“That Sogo, pulling his damn pranks again,” he laughed with a bravado he dug out from the very bottom of the barrel. Even with a quick glance, he could already tell that was his handwriting. No ifs, ands, buts, or oh-fuck-please-nos about it. Hijikata made a short, desperate grab for the paper. “I didn’t write anything that night.”

Sneering softly as he kept the prize just out of reach, Gintoki said, “Now you know how it feels to be on the other side of the drunk letter. None of the memory and all of the shame.”

“I didn’t write any letter!” Hijikata repeated in pure desperation. “I’m telling you it was Sogo!”

“So Okita-kun knows about Dr. Boroboro then?” Gintoki asked a little too innocently.

Hijikata instantly bristled.

“I’VE TOLD YOU TO QUIT CALLING HIM THAT! WHY WOULD AN ELEPHANT BE A DOCTOR?”

“He keeps showing up in your dreams with a monocle, so obviously he wants you to know he is well educated,” Gintoki drawled, sliding the letter back into his kimono, and thereby freeing his finger to dig around in his ear. “It’s the equivalent of someone inviting you into their home, and their degrees from Toityhoity U are hanging in gilded frames in the foyer.”

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” Hijikata accused. “The monocle isn’t necessarily an accent piece. Maybe he just has bad eyesight in one eye!”

Because who would wear whole glasses if they could just wear half of one?

“Then you do the normal thing and bandage over that side of your face!” Gintoki proclaimed, because that was what people actually did.

“Oi, Shiroyasha-dono. You need to check your definition of normal,” Hijikata deadpanned. “Anyway, it’s just a weird elephant. There’s never any deep meaning when he shows up.”

“I’ll agree with that. In your letter you mentioned a dream where I told Dr. Boroboro where the fortune cookies were. It sounded too stupid to be deep.”

Clenching his fist hard enough for any camera to deem worthy to cut to it for a dramatic close-up, Hijikata remembered that dream. It wasn’t one he would have been raring to recount to Gintoki over breakfast. It wasn’t one anyone would be better off knowing about. So why the fuck had his drunk self felt the need to write about it and who knows what else?

Standing up and dusting themselves off in the wake of the mess Vimit had made was going to be awkward enough without Hijikata’s subconscious barfing bullshit on everyone’s shoes. How did you come back from this sort of thing? Was there a Rocky inspirational training montage or two Hijikata could go through that would make all of this go away? Was there a sunset he could run toward?

Running sounded good, actually. Running away sounded great. This might be the perfect time to take a long vacation someplace far away from anyone who even had a second cousin who might recognize him.

“I see you agree that this is all really stupid,” Gintoki continued, looking at him with half-lidded eyes and a bland expression that was somehow still really fucking judgy.

And there was the crux of Hijikata’s confusion. If whatever he had written had been so disgusting, wouldn’t staying far away be the better option?

“Why are you here, Yorozuya?” he asked.

“I already told you,” Gintoki said. “To put a stop to this. No more letters.”

“Vimit is gone, so it’s done,” Hijikata confirmed, taking a seat and picking up his papers and shuffling them in a way he hoped made him appear uncaring and businesslike. “Now get out of here.”

“No,” Gintoki said sharply, looming over Hijikata in a way that made it clear this was not, indeed, done. “Stop shoving this on the Amanto. I’m talking to you. No more letters.”

Hijikata looked up from his briefing about something or other – he couldn’t remember the details – to lock eyes with the Yorozuya. Did the guy really think Hijikata was going to start hiding love notes under his pillow? Had he stepped so far out of bounds with whatever he’d written that night with Vimit that he had traveled into the same mental category where Gintoki stashed his ninja stalker?

Swallowing heavily, Hijikata struggled to keep his expression neutral.

“I get it, already!” he snapped. “I won’t write to you. I won’t do anything to you. You have my word.”

If this was the way Gintoki wanted to end the months long farce a stupid, horny alien had compelled him to participate in, Hijikata figured he could suck it up and let him. He owed the asshole at least that much. After maintaining eye contact long enough to convey he was being genuine, Hijikata returned back to his work. He fingered his pocket for a cigarette, and made a grab for his lighter only to find it gone.

“You really really don’t get it, do you?” Gintoki spoke with a deceptively casual air, using Hijikata’s lighter to set fire to the crumpled letter he’d been carrying. “I’m saying no more letters, because they won’t cut it. That’s not enough now. That’s a bunch of monologues with no team work. That’s two people shouting from opposite sides of a ravine, and not actually crossing the divide to see what the grass looks like on the other side. For you and me that’s not good enough.”

He lobbed the burning heap into the ash tray.

In lieu of a reply, Hijikata simply lit his cigarette on the dying flames and took a drag. He still had no idea what the hell Gintoki was going on about, but this was good riddance to a letter that should have never existed in the first place.

Gintoki let out a snort that almost sounded fond, and sat back down on the floor right next to Hijikata so that their shoulders were nearly touching, but not quite.

“Obviously there are no words strong enough to dig their way through the wax clogging your ears, so it’s all gotta come from someplace deeper,” he said. “So you’ll actually get it.”

“Maybe you just need to learn to talk better,” Hijikata retorted.

“I’m talking just fine, and I’m saying I’m tired,” Gintoki replied, yawning wide enough to back up his claim, and to grace the world with a clear, unobstructed view of his uvula. “You’re exhausting. Now give me your hand.”

“What? No.”

But it was too late. Gintoki had already snatched him by the wrist, placing his arm palm up on the table, before laying his head on top.

“The table’s too rough. I need a pillow. Your bony hand’s not much better, but it’ll do.”

It was the sort of scene that had occurred more and more frequently as of late whenever the two of them were in the same room for one reason or another. Hijikata would be occupied with something like arguing on the phone with Harada or watching that fucking tearjerker of an ending to _Aliens vs. Yakuza 6: You Snooza, You Yakuza_ , and all of a sudden he would notice that his hand was stuck on top of a permy head, absentmindedly rubbing the curls and scalp, as the owner of the hair flipped through an issue of JUMP or snored and drooled against his shoulder. He had never caught Gintoki in the act of depositing his hand where he wanted – the Yorozuya always managed to do it when Hijikata was occupied enough to not pay the background noise any attention –, and Hijikata never brought it up when he actually noticed minutes or hours later. It wasn’t anything that had ever needed to be discussed. 

Hijikata looked at his own hand now, limp and motionless beneath a smooshed cheek and a messy head of hair.

“Gin…” he said, the syllable escaping his mouth before he realized it.

The fucker just looked up at Hijikata like he was the idiot. Like he was a big, gigantic idiot. Like his idiocy had grown to the point that it had its own local gravitational pull. Like he had just been proclaimed president of the idiots after a unanimous idiotic vote in his favor. Like Hijikata was utterly, irredeemably an idiot, but… in spite of it all, he would bear the burden of putting up with him.

“No more letters. Don’t make me say it again,” Gintoki said with a rough snort, and settled against Hijikata’s hand.

Hijikata was silent for a beat before huffing and turning away. Watching the wind brush roughly against the leaves on the trees outside his room, he took another drag of his cigarette with his one free hand, and threaded his fingers through soft, silver curls with the other.

“Alright already. No more letters,” Hijikata said. “Don’t get fussy.”

Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Gintoki smile and close his eyes. He felt a pair of lips press lazily into the dip in his palm.

And so they spent the morning.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it ends. I’ve written the occasional fanfic on and off over the past decade, but this is the first time I ever managed to finish a multichapter work. I owe it all to your support here. What a cool community of people. To anyone who commented, kudosed, bookmarked, subscribed, or simply read this story, it all means a lot to me. Thank you! 
> 
> I’ve enjoyed writing for this fandom enough that I’ve been inspired to write one more work, and I’ll start posting a little ways down the road. If you want to look out for it, here’s the title: Kids Who Don’t Play With Trains When They’re Young Will Never Grow Up to Become Skilled City Planners
> 
> See you on the flip side!
> 
> G


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